FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Since humanity first got up on it's own two legs and began to learn, one of the simplest yet complex ideas came into view.

Family.

Many have had their own definition for it, but the idea boiled down to the people who were genetically close to you, and that made them important. It's where the saying "Blood is thicker than water" comes from. Your family is "blood" and "water" is simply everyone else. Undistinguishable, and unimportant.

But I don't have a family. I lost that when my own parents sold me off as a child to pay off their debt.

No, for the longest time, all I had was Ryan. And I never considered him family. Because if the thing called family and the bond that a family shared was so weak that family members would so easily sell one another out like that, then I didn't want him as family. I wanted him as Ryan.

And that's why, on the day when I met someone who I knew would become a great friend like Ryan, I felt my heart break . . . as I watched his limp, almost lifeless body sail through the air, after he had willingly and immediately risked his life for two people, he barely knew.

"Dennis!!!" Ryan and I shout as we run to him, his body thrown away like a torn up doll, limp on the ground.

* * Second Shift * *

* * Shock * *

We rush over to him, immediately checking for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak and getting weaker. I see him try to open his eyes, but they didn't seem to focus on anything. I saw his body twitch and squirm, but he could barely move. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"D-Dennis, stay with us." Ryan says, gingerly picking up his limp body. It was strange. They had been the same height before, and in werebeast form, Ryan only grey a couple inches and gained some muscle mass. But he seemed to tower over him now, as if he were a giant, trying to handle a broken and dying animal.

He carefully picks him up, laying his head against his chest and cradling him. He was worried, and panicking, but so was I.

"C'mon, we have to get out of here." Ryan says, running towards the exit. I follow him, not wanting to leave his side for a minute. "We can take him to a hospital in that car we stole. Do you know where the hospital is?"

I open my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I was stilled stunned. I shut it tight and bite my lip, trying to force the words out. "N-No . . . I don't know . . ."

"Then we'll find out!" he says as we run mindlessly to our stolen red car. He carefully hands me Dennis, and I'm surprised by how heavy he was. To me, at that moment, he was the heaviest thing I could have ever carried. "C'mon, we'll take him back to our apartment for now. Maybe Roy or Alex will know what to do."

I nod, getting in the passenger seat, holding Dennis close to me.

We drive quickly to our apartment, and I was pretty sure we had broken a few laws. Running across the street when that light was red was okay, right? I look at Dennis, rubbing his cheek as I look over his wounds.

I carefully slice his shirt and pants off with my claws to better examine him. He had cuts all over his body, and there were pieces of cement and metal lodged into his chest and arms. He also had burns all across his arms, but luckily that's all there were. He was bleeding all over, but it was slow, in a trickle. The worst of it looked like it was in his head. He had a large gash, and it was bleeding profusely.

I gulp, used to the sight of a mangled body, but . . . never like this. He kept his eyes opened, but they seemed blurry, as if he couldn't focus on anything. His mouth was opening and closing, but no words came out.

I freeze, feeling his hand grope out for mine, finally reaching it, and gripping it with whatever strength he could.

"N . . . oir" he whispers out, voice raspy. "No . . . hos . . . tal" I grip his hand tightly, not really understanding him.

"Don't worry, Dennis. We'll get you some help." I say as we arrive to our apartment. I carefully get out of the car, him still in him arms. I climb up the stairs to our small apartment, only equipped with a kitchen, a living space, and (oddly enough) three bedrooms plus one bathroom.

"Quick, let's get him on the couch for now. Look in the kitchen for the first aid kit. We'll have to do our best." Ryan says.

I lay him down on the couch, propping his head up with his torn clothes. He was breathing shallowly, but he seemed to be getting stronger at the very least.

"Where're Roy and Alex?" I ask, rushing into the kitchen.

"It looks like they're still out, working. Still a miracle they were able to get jobs." Ryan says, examining Dennis. "Don't worry, we've seen lots of bodies like this before, so maybe we can patch him up."

"Ryan . . . we were the ones who usually made bodies look worse than he was . . . I doubt we can patch him up." I say, kneeling next to him, first aid kit in hand. "Breaking's a lot easier than fixing . . ."

I see Dennis try to open his mouth again, but his mouth seemed dry. I always wondered why that was. Why did, in the short time that it was, his throat dry out? How did something so loud and vibrant, suddenly become so dim and dark?

"Wa . . . ter" Dennis says, using the link that we still had established. My eyes widen, and I turn to Ryan who was already up, running to the kitchen and filling a cup with water.

He rushes back, holding out the cup filled to the brim with water, slowly putting it against his lips and tipping it. The water flows into his mouth, and he slowly gulps it down. Ryan pulls away, or at least tries to before Dennis's hand snaps up and holds his wrist there, forcing him to empty the cup of water into his mouth. Once it was all gone, he tips his head back, exhaling.

"Good . . . fluid level . . . acceptable . . . beginning blood cell regeneration." Dennis says almost mechanically. "N-Noir . . . the kit"

I look down into my lap and see the kit, quickly bringing it up and opening it. In it was a sterile sewing needle for stiches, the sewing string, bandages, Band-Aids, some kind of disinfectant, tweezers, and some other things I didn't recognize.

"Help . . . with th- . . .the stones." Dennis says, weakly trying to get a grip of one of the shards of rock embedded in him. My hand shakes, but I reach for it. My paw goes onto it, and I grip, almost pulling back when I saw Dennis wince in pain.

"P . . . Pull . . ." my eyes go wide, but I close them just as quick, steeling my nerves. I open them, and I pull. The stone comes out quickly, along with a small burst of blood.

"Nggnnn!!" Dennis groans through clenched teeth, but he remains as calm as he can. "Th-thread . . . needle."

I see Ryan take the needle and thread, putting both together. Wait . . . he couldn't possibly mean . . .

"Dennis, I don't think you should give yourself stiches." I say. But he weakly shakes his head, gripping the spot where I just pulled out the stone.

"Dis . . . infectant" I open my mouth to protest, but then I realized something. Dennis probably knew he had to take out the debris in him and clean the wound, as well as seal it unless he wanted to bleed out.

With my shaky paws, I grab the disinfectant and pour a bit on what looked like a little cloth inside the kit, carefully cleaning out the wound. He wasn't actually bleeding too much, and the wounds were fairly shallow. No smaller bits of rock from the looks of it, either. But it was still dangerous to have so many. Plus, the shockwave from the explosion might have seriously messed him up on the inside. Closing up these wounds would only be first aid. He'd need to head to a hospital, no matter what.

I see him push my paw away gently, hand holding the needle oddly steady.

"P-Please . . . don't look" I glanced up to him, and I saw fear in his eyes. I squeezed his other arm that was limp beside his body reassuringly. And he smiles a bit.

I see him let out a deep breath before he goes to work, grimacing as he does. I glance down and see that his hand was sewing up his wound as if he had done it a thousand times. It was strange. He had small, delicate hands that looked like they were meant for this kind of action. They worked precisely, every movement meaningful.

But that same hand, didn't seem like his anymore. It was as if his hand was possessed by someone else, and they were working on his body, instead of himself. It was like when he had suddenly rushed passed both Ryan and I and destroyed the remote that the mercenary had in his mouth.

"N-Next!" Dennis says desperately, voice strained with pain. It was a bit surreal. I would have thought that something like that couldn't have showed through the link. But it did. But that's all that showed through. That strained voice, nothing else.

Ryan works on the next piece, a large shard of metal lodged next to his navel. It was strange. When I linked up with someone, I knew when they were in pain. It came as a signal, like an alarm. But nothing like that came from Dennis. Was it because he felt none? Or was it that he just didn't want it to show.

"NYAAAAHH!" I hear him shout, but I still couldn't sense any pain from him. I guess . . . I just couldn't understand him just yet through this link. I take another disposable rag and soak it with the disinfectant, getting to clean his wound. It's not as if I needed my personal skill for this anyway. I could clearly see and hear him in pain.

Once again, he takes the needle and carefully sews the wound shut, meticulously working, and once finished, simply cutting off the string with one quick snap.

We continue, methodically and quietly removing each piece, cleaning out the wound, and then sewing it shut. The only thing that broke the silence was his pained groan or yelp, and as time went on, they got quieter and quieter.

Once we were finished with the major cuts, we all sit back and let out a sigh. It was . . . surreal, seeing him tend to his own wounds. The only thing I've seen that was anywhere close to that was when a team of trained doctors tended to a wounded experiment.

"Nnn, fuck." Dennis says, out loud this time. I look up and see him sitting upright, struggling to wrap bandages over his wounds. I lean forward to help, but he just waves me off. "I got it." He says, voice still a bit raspy. He finishes wrapping his chest, going to his legs, then to his arm. He picks up the rag soaked with disinfectant and carefully pats down the burnt parts, then wraps them in the bandages.

"Damn it . . . hurts like a bitch." Dennis says, touching his forehead and realizing that he had a large cut up there, too. He takes the disinfectant and quickly cleans the wound, quickly following up by grabbing the needle again and, with the last of the thread, sealing the wound.

He looks at his body, doing a light inspection. "Wounds dispersed . . . but shallow. No internal bleeding, and minimal damage to any organs. Blood levels are low, but I'll be fine. No broken bones . . . but these burns will be hard to deal with. I think mom had a remedy at home . . ."

"D-Dennis?" Ryan says. "You okay? You did kinda just almost got blown up . . ."

"Yeah . . . I'm pretty good now. Just . . . stiff. And my throat's still dry since my body diverted a lot of liquid to try to make up for the lost blood."

"Do you want me to get you some more water?" I ask him, concerned.

"Nah, I can do it myself." He says, slowly standing up and grabbing the glass that he had used before. Ryan stands up, ready to protest. "Hey, hey, hey, it's getting a cup of water! Not like I'm gonna go driving or something . . ."

"You have stitches all over you!" I say, more annoyed than shocked.

"Which I applied to myself, so I of all people should know how much stress they can handle." He says, slowly limping over to the kitchen. "You guys just wait right there. You aren't exactly unscathed yourselves . . ."

We watch him hobble into our kitchen and look through our almost barren cabinets, taking out a bucket, as well as a rag. He fills the cup with water, then drinks as he waits for the bucket to fill up.

"This is ridiculous." Ryan says, getting up. He goes over to him, and before he can protest, takes the bucket and rag from his hand and then, just as quickly, picks up Dennis and slings him over a shoulder. Dennis, for his part, just let's out a small "oof". "You. Are. Injured."

He walks back here and throws Dennis onto the couch, making a "Boof" sound once he landed on the squishy couch.

"Fine, fine, fine." Dennis says, sticking out a bit of his tongue. Ryan sets down the bucket and rag, then sits on the floor.

"Well, I should get started, anyhow." Dennis says, getting off the couch and sitting in front of us on the floor. "While I'm tending to your wounds, why don't you tell me about your powers? Maybe after that, you can tell me why you're here."

". . . So you don't want an explanation of why we're anthropomorphic dog men?" Ryan asks.

". . . Oh right. I forgot." He says, looking away and rubbing his chin. Was . . . was he being serious?

* * (Perspective change, Dennis Hua) * *

"So . . . let's get started." I say as I wring out the excess water from the soaking rag. I gently touch the rag to Noir's arm, cleaning off the blood from his fur. "Noir, let's start with you. What's your personal skill? Actually, what is a personal skill?"

"Well . . . a personal skill is just an ability that someone has. Nothing more, nothing less. It's pretty crazy, albeit, but in its simplest terms, it really is just a certain talent someone has. It really isn't that far off from reality or science. It's basically evolution. Just a random trait given to a random person, who randomly uses it as they see fit."

"I see . . . so it's like a superpower?" I ask, dipping the rag into the water, seeing it slowly turn pink.

"No. Unlike what I've researched about these "super powers", these are actually a lot less convenient, and have an explanation behind them." Noir says. "For one, these abilities are always natural, given from birth. Although, they can lie dormant in a body until something comes and changes it."

"An impetus." I say, cleaning off the dust and dirt now.

"Yes, I suppose you can say that. Now, my ability is called "Nightmare", although it's not really as dark as it sounds. Basically, through ocular or physical contact, I can access someone's mind by matching our brain waves together and creating something of a shared consciousness. It's like their mind is a song, and I'm harmonizing with it. Once I do that, I can delve deep into their mind, cause illusions by messing with their head, and even make a weaker link and allow telepathy."

"Oh, I get it. So it's like you're hacking into people's heads." I say, cleaning the dirty rag once again.

"Kind of . . . not sure if we're thinking of the same thing." Noir says, scratching his head.

"So are your dog forms another personal skill? It seems like you have quite a few physical benefits, as well. Increased height, muscle mass, reaction time, resistance to physical harm, and even increased regeneration time." I say, not missing the fact that all their wounds had already somehow healed up. "And from the lack of any signs of early bacterial infection, increased resistance to disease."

"Okay, you know what? How?! How are you doing that?!" Noir says, very frustrated. "You not only took care of your own injuries, but you were able to examine and analyze our body types with a few glances. Hell, with one look at Ryan's arm, you were able to deduce that there was something unnatural about his body! Not to mention that you were able to analyze the enemy in the heat of battle, being totally caught off guard. And now this! How the hell did you deduce all of that so quickly?!"

"I'm Asian, what do you expect?" I ask. He gives me a blank stare. "Alright, alright, it's because I've studied the human body a lot, and I learned a bit about medicine. I used to be scared that I would get an injury that would cripple me, and I wouldn't make it to the hospital in time. So I learned how to give myself some form of treatment. Although, it's been a long time since I learned, and I don't use these skills often."

"When'd you learn all that?" Ryan asks as I finish up cleaning Noir's other arm.

"Umm . . . about seven?" Ryan looks at me, clearly calling bullshit. "Yeah, I shadowed a doctor. They thought it was silly, but hey! I lived, didn't I? Oh, and can you get me some clean water, Ryan?" he nods and picks up the bucket effortlessly. "And determining all the benefits wasn't all that hard. Height and muscle mass are obvious, since I already knew your general builds. You don't have any wounds, so they must have regenerated, and there's no signs at all of any type of infection, leading me to believe you have boosted immune systems. Plus I got a general gist of Ryan's reaction time before. But during the fight, it was pretty instantaneous."

"Hmm . . . I guess." Noir says. Ryan brings back the bucket, filled with crystal clear water. I thank him, and quickly get back to cleaning any wounds.

"Hmm . . . yeah, this won't work." I say. I stand up, looking down at them both. "Noir. Ryan. Strip."

"Okay." They both say, starting to take off their clothes.

"Hey! You're supposed to resist!" I say, face burning as I see their extremely fit forms under their shirts. Abs that defined really shouldn't be hidden like that . . .

"Hm? Oh, sorry, we're actually used to being full on naked most of the time." Ryan says. I frown a bit. Did it have to do with how they became . . . what was it called? Werebeasts? "Besides, you're naked, too, so there really isn't a big problem, right?"

"Hm?" I say. I look down, seeing that I was naked. My oddly pale skin on display. "Huh . . . . . . UUUWWAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

I reach out and immediately rip their shirts from their paws, using them to cover myself. My face was beet red, I'm sure, and my ears felt like they were on fire.

"What?" Noir asks. "You were wounded, we had to examine you. Besides, it's not like we did anything to you. Besides, you just told us to strip, and you've been a lot more shameless today. The fanfiction, the prime example."

"Y-Yeah, b-b-but . . . this is just different, okay?!" I say sitting down and trying to hide my face on the cloth. "J-Just show me where the shower is!"

"Hm? Oh! You wanted for us to take a shower." Ryan says, smiling widely, proud that he finally figured out what I had originally planned.

"Y-Yeah. Your wounds are mostly healed already, so we should just take a shower to wash off the dirt and the blood." I say, regaining a bit of my composure.

"You sure? You have stitches all over, after all . . ." Ryan says, concerned.

"Relax. I used a special type of stitch. It won't let the wound reopen so easily, and water won't enter the wounds. By now, my body would have at least sealed the cuts closed with scabs, anyway." I say, standing up slowly, but falling back down. Everything still hurt.

Ryan and Noir help me up and start guiding me to the bathroom. "Looks like you're still hurt."

"Eh, I bounce back quick enough." I say, legs shaky. Ryan opens a door to the bathroom, leading us all in.

It was nice, spacious for an apartment. There was a tub, with a shower head and a curtain. But it looked big enough for the three of us, at the very least.

"Okay, both of you drop your pants." I say, sitting on the closed toilet seat. They drop their pants and underwear seamlessly, not showing the slightest bit of hesitation. "Damn it, you two are no fun."

Though they did look nice underneath it all. Noir had a nice, compact build, with a fairly plump package. Ryan had a more muscly build, but it all looked proportionate, as if every muscle truly belonged on his body. He looked about . . . wow, a solid nine inches. That's nice!

Although . . . it seems that some of their dog traits carried on to a few more places. For one, they lacked hair, but had fur all over, with some places being thicker like in the arm pits and the groin. They also had tails and claws, and distinct muzzles. But most importantly . . . they had a strange fur covering over their dicks, like foreskin.

"It's a sheath." Ryan says. I look up, tilting my head in confusion. "A sheath is a protective layer over an animal's penis, kind of like a foreskin. If you pull it back, you'll see the actual thing."

"Hmm . . ." I reach over to Noir's sheath and pull it back slightly. He yelps, jumping back. "Oh, so that's how it works." I say, finally understanding it. It rolled back like a foreskin, for sure. But . . . does that mean that that's as hard as they'll get? Anymore and the sheath would break . . . "I'll have to research that further . . ."

"Noir," Ryan whispers. "why is it that he makes me even more nervous than the actual scientists?"

We all get into the tub, brushing up against each other a lot, but fitting all the same. "So, Ryan, tell me about your personal skill while I help wash your guys' backs."

"Wow, this is a great learning experience!" Ryan says, smiling widely. "Can't believe that not only can guys shower together, they can wash each other! We can have so much more fun now, Noir!"

SMACK*

"Don't talk like we already do stuff together! He'll start getting the wrong ideas . . ."

"Aww, so you want me to lie?" Ryan says, going over to him and wrapping his arms tightly around his rather lithe frame. His hands immediately go over to his ass, kneading the rather well shaped cheeks almost roughly. "What about all those other times then?" He whispers, quietly, almost growling. Noir blushes hard, his ears turning red, hands going to Ryan's shoulders, weakly trying to push him away. "I don't think I can just forget them, Noir."

"S-Stop, n-not in front of him . . ." Noir says, trying to look away.

"What? I don't recall ever learning from the link that there were any rules on sexual interactions in private places . . . in fact, from the nice lady, I learned a lot of things all on this very topic, but never anything saying I shouldn't."

"C-Consent! You have to get consent!" Noir says, legs shaking as Ryan's paws start to work him all over, pressing their bodies together, kneading all the struggle and stress out of him.

"Really?" Ryan says, leaning closer, seemingly towering over him now, speaking right into his ear. "Don't forget I can smell how people feel . . . and I'm not sure you really want me to stop." He says, smiling, right before nipping on Noir's ears.

Heavy Breathing*

They both freeze, turning to my direction. I was against the wall, face burning, mouth gaping in a wide smile as I pant like a dog, a small streak of drool leaking out. "Th-That face . . . those expressions . . . the confidence . . . the movements, the timing, the pressing . . . all of it so perfect, each move getting him to loosen up, more and more!" I mutter to myself. "The growling whisper, the claws raking through the fur, and the ear nip! Wonderful, perfect, amazing, ten out of ten, your ability to read bodies is . . . amazing!"

Noir finally manages to push Ryan away, and I let out a small sigh out of disappointment. To make matters worse, Noir completely covered up! I couldn't even see what his hard-on looked like . . .

"Sorry, we tease each other like that from time to time." Ryan says, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. "But that's what makes us such good friends!"

"Yeah, fr- . . . friends?" I ask. "Not like . . . boyfriends, or anything?"

"Hm? No, Noir's straight." He says, smiling and slapping Noir on the ass, making him yelp and jump a little. "Too bad, though. Makes it really hard to have some fun . . ." he starts stroking his tail, slowly, making Noir visibly shudder. I look down, noticing that Ryan's sheath had plumped up.

Wait, wait, wait. Don't let the cock distract you, Dennis. Now I know I don't really have a good gaydar myself, but really?

"Oh, I should probably tell you now. We haven't really been outside much, so to learn how to act properly, Noir dived into someone's mind and took information about social norms, then he transferred it all using a link. It's just another benefit to the telepathic link." Ryan says. "But now that we got all that out of the way, let me explain my personal skill. I have two known and active personal skills, "Sweet Tooth", and "Scenting"."

"Two? So it isn't limited to just one." I say, reaching over and turning on the water. It cascades over us, and we brace ourselves for the momentary cold water, soon turning warmer.

"Mm." Noir says. "Though the chances of having one is extremely unlikely. Two is like a miracle. But it isn't unheard of, since they're classified as random mutations, remember?"

"Yeah, so having one, two, or even three can be possible." Ryan says, smiling excitedly. "Now, to explain my personal skills, the first one I mentioned, "Sweet Tooth", is just an ability that allows me to influence people's emotions. It's not mind control or anything, but actually just body language. Moving a certain way, talking a certain way, and in my werebeast form, smelling a certain way! As a werebeast, I can release various pheromones that causes different reactions."

"Hmm . . . I see, so your ability is based off the idea of 'if I act a certain way, they will respond in kind', kind of thing." I say, biting my thumb. I tend to do that when thinking hard.

"Yeah. My second ability, "Scenting", is close to it. Humans may not realize it, but their scent varies with each emotion, even if it's miniscule. It's because in prehistoric times, early humans used scent a lot more to gauge emotions, and even if it diminished, it's still there. This ability lets me decipher different scents and process them as emotions. I can do this in my human form, but as a dog, it's a lot better."

"Really? Well, form the sounds of it, your physical forms are the key to your abilities. They seemed to enhance them greatly, and from that train of thought, maybe they even awaken them." I say, closing my eyes as I let the water cascade over my head. "They seem to be just as much of a miracle as your actual powers."

"They're not." Ryan says, voice dead serious. I never noticed it before, but his voice was actually very deep. And when he wasn't happy, that voice very easily sounded dark. Stark black, almost. I look up, and I see them both looking down, eyes filled with contempt. "These bodies . . . are a constant reminder of our misery. And they'll keep doing so for the rest of our lives."

"Ryan . . ." I say. I reach over to him with my hand, taking his paw into my own, and squeezing it. He looks up, eyes filled with despair, but also the tiniest glimmer of hope. He smiles, ever so slightly. "Do you want to tell me?"

He nods. "Dennis. We're not normal people. We're the second batch of test experiments for something called "The Werebeast Project". Noir and I are orphans, and we were adopted to be used as guinea pigs by a group of powerful men seeking to make the perfect human. I'm Experiment 3, "Sweet Tooth"."

"I'm Experiment 4, "Nightmare"." Noir says, looking up, sullenly.

"Noir . . . Ryan." I see them shake a bit, and they were fidgeting. I could only imagine how hard it was for them to go through what they may have gone through. I step forward in the small space, wrapping my arms around both of their large frames. They stop shaking, and I imagine their eyes were a bit wide with surprise. "Don't worry. You don't have to tell me anymore until you're ready. I'll always be there if you want to talk."

"Wh-What?" Ryan says, pushing me away. I let go of them, stepping back to look at them. "You can't stay with us. We'll probably be on the move again soon, anyway. As you can probably assume, they didn't let us out. We escaped. And that bomber we just fought was them trying to take us back."

"So?" I ask. "I can handle myself, guys. I survived the last battle, right?" they open their mouths to protest, but they couldn't. I was, after all, technically right. "Besides, how could I possible forsake my friends?"

"Well, can you really say we're friends? We've known each other for a day, and in that time we've almost gotten you killed."

"Eh, things happen." I say, grabbing some soap from a shower shelf and starting to clean myself. "To be honest, it was pretty fun, so I don't regret it or anything."

"Hmph. You really are a strange one, Dennis." Ryan says, grabbing the soap from me and lathering it all over his fur. "But we're still going to have to move away from here. Being in this area won't be beneficial to us."

"Not necessarily." I say, bringing my head under the water stream and washing away the suds. "To be honest, it's probably best if you stay right here." I scrub my head a little, murring softly as I feel the warm water cascade over my aching body. "I mean, think about it. Although they sent a deranged, bomb obsessed arsonist, they wanted to be extremely discreet about all of this. Those bombs that Nathaniel used, they were extremely subdued, probably so they wouldn't cause so much noise."

"Well, that's true. I suppose if they did then someone would start to follow a trail right back to the project." Ryan says, hands on my head, scrubbing with me. I don't discourage him. His paws felt nice.

"Yeah, so with that in mind, then the best option is to stay here. With the noise they made, if they pull of something like this again, even if on a smaller scale, there'll definitely be a price to pay. But if you move, then you'll wipe the slate clean, and they'll be able to pull off something like that, again."

"I see . . . so if we stay here, they either have to be a lot more subtle, or risk being discovered." Noir says. "We, on the other hand, can easily evade any authority with our personal skills."

"My point exactly. They're at a disadvantage in this territory. And to add on to that, you'll have me here, as well. Not only can I assist in battles, but I also know this area a lot better than any of their mercenaries." I say, huffing in victory. "Worst case scenario, I just take a defensive role and stay in the back where it's all safe. Like with this battle."

"Still . . . I doubt that it'll be that easy." Ryan says. "I suppose that if anything, we can train you a little for combat. Though I doubt you really need that much. You were actually pretty good out there, today, pup."

"Thanks!" I say, smiling widely at the little pat on the back. "Now . . . since I know most of the basics of all of this . . . there's just one more thing I need to do." I look at Ryan and give him a knowing grin. He grins back. We both turn to Noir and glare hungrily.

"Wh-what is it?" he asks, trying to back up in the small space.

"Nothing . . . it's just that I've got a curiosity that needs to be sated."

"And after all that he's done for us Noir, wouldn't it be rude if we didn't oblige?"

"G-Guys!" we don't give him time to respond properly. Seamlessly, Ryan slips behind Noir, grabbing him and locking him in place.

"Now, now, calm down . . ." I could see Noir slowly stop struggling, but he had his eyes closed, he was shaking like a leaf, face beat red.

"Sorry, Noir, but I have to have a good grasp of the werebeast anatomy. Yeah, that sounds like a good enough excuse." I say as I slowly run my paws down his chest. "If it makes you feel any better, I do this to a lot of people."

"It doesn't!" Noir says, arching his back and exposing his neck as Ryan starts to slowly chew and nibble on his shoulder, moving closer and closer to his neck.

"I just can't help it." I say, smiling evilly and I finally reach his furry cock. "It's just so great, isn't it? Our bodies . . . everyone is similar in some way or another, and that's something that connects us. But what interests me the most is the differences."

I slowly start stroking it, and it pulls back to reveal a soft, red dick much like a humans had a human had a cock with a tapered tip. "Minute differences in comparison to everything else, yet large, bold differences and variations all the same."

"No body is perfectly identical with the other." I say, hands running all over his smooth fur. "I suppose you can say that any body would be interesting for me. You'll let me see it, won't you?" I lean in, pressing myself against him. "What makes that body yours?"

I could feel him stiffen up in my hands that had never stopped working. "It's rare that I get to completely examine such a fine person." I say as I look down. "Huh . . . I see, the sheath fully wraps over the flaccid member, but can be pulled back once it is hard. And it seems that you're nothing, if not well endowed."

I look over it, the hard cock in my hands. I gently wrap my hands around it and start pumping it firmly. 7.34 inches of cock from the looks of it, and from the body's reactions, sensitive. I rub my thumb over his slit, and he jerks, thrusting right into my palm and squirting a rather hefty load of precum. I take a glob of it with my left hand and sniff it lightly.

"Hey, what do you think, Ryan?" I ask as I present the glob to him. He stops his ministrations momentarily to lick the bit of precum from my finger. I grab another glob as I continue to jerk him off, this time licking up the glob of pre.

"Hmm, sweet as usual." Ryan says, smiling deviously as he licks Noir's cheek.

"Wow! That really is sweet!" I say. You wouldn't have expected it, but yeah! "Do you eat a lot of pineapples, or any citrusy foods?"

"N-No~" Noir groans out as I start to pump his cock faster.

"Hmm . . . I guess it's possible for someone to be inherently sweet . . . this is good. Getting a lot of important data."

I keep mercilessly pleasuring him, taking in every detail. His shallow breathing, his digitgrade paws starting to stamp the floor, claws on his hands and toes curling, trying to cling onto either one of us, or even his pulsing cock that was spewing out precum.

"Hmm . . . the transformation must affect your bodily organs as well. From how much you're producing, your prostate must be fairly efficient. But that would explain some of the more inhuman capabilities you have." I say as I squeeze a strange bulge at the base of his cock that was keeping the sheath pulled back. He gasps, humping up wildly. "Hey Ryan, what's this little bulb thing?" I ask as I keep squeezing and massaging it.

"Nnng- f-fu~ck!" Noir moans out, eyes closing, paws gripping Ryan tightly.

"Mmm, that's called a knot, normally found on canine's and their relatives. It's supposed to slowly expand until you lock into someone else that you want to be mated with in order to increase the chance of impregnation."

"Oh, to make sure that no semen is taken out, or leaks out, right?" I ask, gripping it firmly with my right hand as my other firmly jacks him off.

"S-So close . . ." Noir mutters.

Ryan leans in close, touching their foreheads together. "Then cum for me, puppy."

"Mphh!" Noir groans, body tensing as his knot starts to expand, his cock throbbing before shooting glob after glob of cum in a fairly healthy stream. He had great distance and force, but even more volume than I had originally expected.

He thrusts hard into my hands, using them to get as much pleasure as possible, covering my hands, arms, and a bit of my stomach with his steaming hot cum before his orgasm finally dies off.

"Copious . . ." I say as I let go of the knot. I bring my hand up to my mouth and taste the creamy liquid tentatively. "Mmm, sweat, with just a little hint of salty bitterness." I lick my lips. "Well, that was a great test. But I'll have to do some more at a later time to verify my results."

"M-More?" Noir pants out while leaning back into Ryan.

"Of course!" I say. "I mean, what kind of scientist would I be if I didn't test my hypothesis until I could be sure that I was correct?" I smile deviously. "Don't worry. I'm very gentle with my test subjects. And I always put in 100%"

Noir closes his eyes, whimpering while his tail curls inward between his legs.

"That's . . . really cute . . ."

* * * *

I sit on the couch, covered up well in a towel as I try my best to repair my clothes.

"So what should we do now?" Ryan asks as Noir sits in a corner, sulking at what he called "sexual harassment at the highest level".

"Rest." I say as I finish up repairing what was left of my shirt. I didn't sew much, but I'm good enough to at least be able to hold them together until I get home and find a new change of clothes. "After a battle, it's important to recuperate. Besides, if we get a chance to rest, we should take it. Whoever's after you probably will have sent others. I suspect at least two, as there are two of you."

"Two?" Ryan asks. "Wait, we never told you, did we? We didn't escape by ourselves. We got out with two others."

I narrow my eyes. "Two others?" I ask. I look at him, getting worried. "Where are they?"

"They're out trying to find work, and then they were supposed to get groceries."

"When did they go out?" I ask as I put on my shirt and tattered pants.

"Umm . . . Noir?" Ryan asks.

"Well . . . knowing Roy, he would have left early, right after we left for school." Noir says. His ears perk up. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. They wouldn't go out for that long . . . they know the type of situation that we're in . . . well, Roy would. Alex's probably as clueless as ever."

"Shit." I say, gritting my teeth, "C'mon, we have to go."

"What?" Ryan asks. "Why?"

"Damn it, why couldn't I see it earlier?" I mutter to myself as I hobble towards the door.

"Hey! You're in no condition to move!" Ryan says. "And what's wrong?"

"Your friends are in trouble!" I say, looking back at them. Their eyes widen, and Noir seemed to be putting the pieces together. "That construction site we were at has been worked on for the last seven months, today was the first day no construction workers came. So that means that the mercenary we fought today set up the bombs last night, which is a two man job, at the very least. One was sent to counter the both of you, which means . . ."

"There's another mercenary. And he was sent after the two of them." Ryan says, eyes widening as he shifts out of his werebeast form. He immediately runs to get dressed, not wanting to waste a single second.

If the mercenary was anything like the first one, they were gonna have hell.

* * (Continuum shift detective, Memory Remnants found) * *

* * - (Accessing) - * *

* * (Time change, perspective change, ????) * *

I punch him hard in the gut, smiling as he crumples to the ground. "Don't think less of me. It's business, you know? You cheat us, so it's only natural that we would come after you like this."

"P-Please . . . we just need more time . . . we'll the mon-" I kick him in the face hard. He throws his head back and grips his face, rolling over and moaning out in pain as blood gushes from his nose.

"Don't throw that bullshit at me. We both know you can't, hell we both know you won't!" I say, pulling up a chair from the small table, ignoring his wife who was being held by two bodyguards. "Hmm . . . I suppose there are a few other ways you could pay."

He doesn't respond. "I'm fairly sure you could just offer up your body as pay. Or better yet . . . hers." She gasps, tears running down her face.

"Don't you touch her!" he shouts out, trying to get up. I could barely understand him. He had a lot of his teeth knocked out, and blood was filling his mouth. I stand up and step down on his head, pressing him to the ground with no effort.

"I don't mean it like that, you shit face." I say, pulling the chair up behind me and sitting back down. "Not into boobs, no offense miss."

"H-Ha, so you're just another fagg-AHHH!" I grind the heel of my foot into his head.

"As faggot as faggots can be. But I'm still thrice the man you could ever be." I say, pressing him into the ground. "Had you been a real man, you wouldn't have murdered all those people in cold blood."

"Gah . . . I've accepted my sin. I've let it go. I know God will forgive me in the end." He says, trying to get to his hands and knees. He was pathetic.

"God, huh? That's nice. It's great that he's forgiven you." I say, glaring at him. "But God wasn't anywhere near that fire, was he? No, not like me, who had to watch everyone they knew and loved slowly burned to death."

"It was justice! You people are monsters!" he shouts out. "I had to become one of you in order to destroy you! It's your fault! It's all your fault!"

I raise my foot from his head, only to bring it down on him even harder. "Shut up." He groans in pain. "I don't disagree. We're monsters, through and through for what we've done. Hell, the higher ups even deemed it so that you only had to pay for the damages. If it were up to me, I would have made you suffer. Just. Like. Me."

"Sophistry . . . all of it. If you realized you were monsters, why didn't you try and change?"

"Why? Because we didn't care if we were monsters." I say, standing up and taking my shoe off of him. It was too good for that hypocrite, anyway. "This world isn't black and white. We're willing to take on the sin of being monsters onto us, if it means saving everyone else."

"You're torturing them! Those innocent children! How could you-"

"I said shut up." I say, kicking him in the side of the head again. I look towards his wife, and she keeps crying. "Sorry, miss. Didn't want you to have to get involved, but you were from the start, weren't you? I mean . . . someone had to be in the security room, making sure the automatic sprinkler and extinguisher wasn't activated." She flinches, eyes widening. She tries to break free from the guard's strong grip, but no such luck.

"S-Stop." He says weakly from the floor. "Not . . . her."

"Hmm? I suppose you're right. We don't have time to waste."

I grab the chair and sit down again, not looking at either of them. "I have a proposition for the two of you. Choose one."

"Ch-Choose one?" he groans out.

"Yes. Choose one of you. The one chosen will be sent to the lab and be used as a test subject."

Both their eyes widen. "B-But-"

"You wanted to repent, right? You wanted to save those two, yes? Then I'll offer you both a deal. Offer your life, body, and soul, and we'll release one of them. Also, the one not chosen will be able to live your life in peace."

"Th-That's-"

"More than fair, yes?" I say, smiling warmly at the both of them. "Your God will be very proud of your noble sacrifice. So choose. Anyone of you three."

"Wh-What are you talking about?" he asks nervously. "There's only-"

"Three of you, yes I know. You have a child. He's hiding in the kitchen cupboard, with a knife in his hands. He's been waiting patiently for an opening. Come on out, boy."

Silence. But then a creak, the sound of the cupboard door opening. He comes out, a little boy with hair as white as snow, and eyes red as crimson, a knife gripped tightly in his hands.

"So choose. You can even choose your son! Not that I-"

"Take him." The wife says.

". . . What?" I ask, glaring at her.

"You heard her . . . take him!" the father says, looking up, eyes filled with hatred. I could only hope that it was for himself.

I grit my teeth, but I stand up. The boy flinched. Did he hear his parents? No . . . he was too concentrated on trying to find some way to kill me to save them . . .

"Gyaaaaah!" he shouts out, charging me with his knife. I grab his wrist and strike him fast behind the neck, making him crumple into unconsciousness with ease.

"Good . . . now that your son's asleep, we can talk." I say. "So you choose him? You want him to be the one that's taken away?"

"Yes! Now just leave us be!" the wife shouts angrily. I looked at her, into her eyes. She looked depraved.

"Yes, take him! There is no greater honor than dying for one's parents! Especially for the fate of others. He'll surely go to God's side as a blessed child, living his afterlife in the greatest bliss possib-"

I bring my foot down hard onto his back, breaking a few ribs with a strange crunch, holding the unconscious little boy safely in my arms.

"I thought so." I say, looking down on him with only the greatest pity. "I had my theories before, but now I know they're true. You both didn't kill all those people to save those kids. You needed a distraction while you ran away."

They both remain silent.

"God? Love? Honor? I thought I told you to not throw that kind of bullshit at me. You were even so willing to throw your son out just to save your sorry lives." I spit on his unmoving body, knowing he was still conscious and alive. "Fine then. I'll be taking him. And I'll leave you both alone. The others will still be tested on, but not as harshly at least. I'll make sure of that."

I look at both of them. They looked strange. They looked remorseful, but not at the loss of their son. Just that I had figured them out, and I hurt their pride.

I start walking towards the door, and the guards throw the wife to the ground, right next to her husband. I put my hand on the doorknob, but I stop, and I turn around.

"His name. What is it?"

"His name . . . it's Noah." He says.

"Noah? No. that doesn't suit him. Noah was a man who tried to save two of every animal so that the world could continue on. But I'm sure he was also selfish. He saved his whole family first, and he neglected the families of others. He was a blind man, ordered by a cruel God who wiped everything away other than what he deemed as 'right'."

"He deserves better than your family legacy. Hell, he's already infinitely more courageous than the two of you. Charging at me blindly, just to save you two." I say, cradling him in my arms. "Amazing, as well. Being only three, yet able to do so much. Brave, smart, but trapped in such a dark household . . ."

I look to the both of them, disgusted.

"I'm letting you live for only one reason." I spit out, venomously. "I want you both to burn up in shame as you remember that you gave up your son so readily, and you still had the audacity to say it was honorable. I want you to remember the name of the child you probably never loved."

"Simon, Evangeline." I turn to them and show them their son. "This is not Noah. He's Noir. Noir Alverick."

* * (Memory End, Continuum shift Reversal) * *