FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Had the damnedest time writing the last part of this one. Would have had it done last night if I wasn't struggling with it so much. Either way, I think I've had enough of exposition for the time being. Maybe try keeping things shorter, I don't really know what to think an appropriate length is, usually just keep going until I think I hit a good stopping point. Well, as always, enjoy.

Standard boiler plate: This is fantasy, not real. Simple rule of thumb, do not do things to people without their consent in real life. That is bad. No more to say there than that.

___________________

In an isolated area hidden by forests stood a small dilapidated cabin, doing little else but gathering dust. The abandoned building had been undisturbed for decades, completely empty and unused for as long as Richard remembered, but that was exactly why he had used an alias to buy it in the first place. It was the perfect place to hide out in case shit ever went down, and right now, was shit ever going down.

Richard was in the process of frantically trying to find all of the places where he hid his supplies, food, money, passports, ids, everything he needed to get the hell out of the country as soon as possible. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely accomplish this basic task. A bottle slipped out of his hand, shattering into a thousand pieces against the floor. That was the last straw as he threw a complete fit, swearing repeatedly and slamming a small trapdoor shut.

No, he needed to compose himself.

If he was to survive this he couldn't panic.

He took three deep breaths, calming himself down. The situation was bad, about the worst he could ever consider, but he needed to stay focused. No one knew about this place, he had some time. He needed to plan his next move carefully, but for now, he just wanted to make sense of it all. He held his face in his hands as he thought back, trying to figure out how the hell things went so wrong.

Both literally and figuratively, Richard was a coyote. Tall, tan fur, piercing yellow eyes, fit though not overly muscular, ravishing good looks. That overall attractiveness and sly charisma were possibly the greatest assets he possessed in his line of work. His job, as officially as an illegal profession could be, was to smuggle anything, or anyone who paid him across borders, anywhere in the world. Most the time it was straightforward, illegally transport something or someone from here to there and get paid, but he also worked for a... he never knew what to call them. A syndicate maybe. A group of interested persons who were more than happy to buy the certain individuals he picked out.

Every once in a while Richard would get a job to transport a particularly attractive client and, well, it would be far more lucrative to see that they didn't reach their intended destination. Sometimes he'd stage their death, sometimes he'd just disappear if there was no way to find him. His favorites were the clients that had no connection to the outside world, he didn't even have to try. In any case, those unlucky few would find themselves on a much different journey.

Whenever he found himself with a product instead of a passenger, the job became something more akin to babysitting, staying in a safe house with a small crew waiting on word from a contact. That was his favorite part by far since he got to, "test the product", as he phrased it. He had to be careful not to do anything that hurt the selling price, of course, but that wasn't difficult. His contact never seemed upset if the products showed up a little worse for wear, which, for longer waits would almost be a certainty.

So that was his job, the same one he had done hundreds of times without incident. Occasionally there were some close calls, sure, but nothing even close to getting him caught. There was never a scrape he wasn't able to talk his way out of. At least not until tonight. Everything had gone smoothly, as always, up until the point when the contact showed up for the hand off. Everything after that point was a blur. Flashing lights, a voice screaming through a megaphone, shattering glass, his crew opening fire and the police responding in kind. The contact bolted immediately. Two of his men fell, which was all the inspiration Richard needed to follow him out the door, leaving the rest of his crew to their fate.

Luckily, it seemed that the contact had chosen to meet at this place because it had a secret passageway out of the building. Richard managed to follow him to the hidden tunnel where they wordlessly parted ways. He stole a nearby car and came straight to his safe house.

That was the situation. He had no idea how the cops found out about their operation, how much they knew, or anything really. The best thing he could do at this point was get out and disappear until he figures out what happened. He gathered up his bags and started to make his way out of the cabin. The border was close enough that he should be able to make it before dawn. As he approached the front door his world lit up with flashing blue lights. Everything he was holding fell to the floor. No, no, there's no way. A voice was screaming through a megaphone. There's no way they could know.

Grabbing a gun, he bolted to the back of the cabin, jumping over the other supplies the were scattered along the ground. There was no way he'd allow himself to get sent to prison, that wasn't remotely an option. The only chance he had was to take off into the wilderness, maybe they wouldn't be able to follow. His adrenaline was off the charts, everything was moving in slow motion. He grabbed the handle of the back door and opened it. An officer was already in the doorway, just as surprised as he was. They both pointed their guns at each other and fired. Richard felt an impact to his forehead and the world went dark.

___________________

Moments later, Richard opened his eyes. He... he was still alive? Swearing under his breath, he took stock of his surroundings. His hand were cuffed, not a good sign. Best he could figure from the grimy concrete brick walls, the large mirror, and the cheap table filling most of the room, it must be an interrogation room. While he was getting his bearings, the door in the corner opened and a weasel in a nice suit sat down across from him.

Still groggy, all Richard could say was, "mnot talkina police. gimme phonecall." The weasel seemed to ignore his statement, sitting back in the chair and putting his feet on the corner of the table. He started idly twirling a quarter between his fingers before looking over at the coyote.

"The whole 'one phone call' thing is really just a poorly understood myth, you know. And as to your first point, you're in luck, we're not the police."

"then who... who are ya?"

The weasel smirked.

"You were never really officially a part of our group, so I don't know that this is accurate, but you could say I was your boss. Or the boss of the whole thing. You know, the leader of the group that kept you in your..." He dismissively waved at the coyote. "Finery." Richard's eyes widened, they rescued him? The was the best he could've hoped for. His head started to clear a bit.

"How did ya get me away from the cops? Last I remember was getting..." He remembered shots going off, but didn't seem wounded, so that couldn't be it. "Getting knocked out somehow."

"There aren't many problems friends, bribes, and a full frontal assault can't fix. We intercepted the police before they made it back to the station. You're welcome, by the way." The coyote grinned, this was really his lucky day. "Now, don't smile yet, here's the problem. All your men are dead, but that isn't a problem for me. Your contact, a good friend of mine, was killed as well, and that pisses me off. But the worst of it, aside from the unnecessary exposure to our dealings, is that the product you were supposed to deliver was recovered by the cops and secured. Normally it wouldn't be that much of a problem, but it was already promised to our best customer, another close friend of mine, and now I find myself with nothing to offer. Except maybe a traitor."

Now Richard was beginning to feel a bit nervous.

"See, we have no way of knowing who's at fault for this colossal fuck up, but given that you're the only survivor, let alone the only survivor that knew anything about the plan, well, you're beginning to look like the prime suspect." The coyote started to defend himself, but was cut off by the weasel holding up his hand, the quarter held still between his knuckles. "You've always been a decent earner for us and never gave me cause to be suspicious, there's a chance you're simply the victim of bad luck, so I figured I'd give you an even shot here." He made a fist and rested the quarter on the tip of his thumb. "So here it is, call it in the air. You get it right and you get to go back to business as usual, but with some additional supervision just in case something happens again. You get it wrong and you get to find out what happened to all those products you delivered over the years."

Now the coyote was terrified. He may not be loyal, per se, but he definitely wasn't a traitor. How could he threaten him like this? With no chance to defend himself? He was about to speak up before the coin was launched into the air. As it came back down and hit the table, the weasel slammed his hand on it with a furious grin, flashing wild eyes.

"Well Richard? What does your future hold?"

The coyote bit his lip, this was so absurd, he wanted to defend himself, to have a chance to clear the air, but with the maniac staring at him... no, he'd have to play along and hope for the best.

"Heads..." he mumbled.

"You're sure that's your answer?" Under his hand, the coin shifted to show tails.

"Yes..."

The weasel moved his hand to reveal the coin, showing teeth through a huge grin as the Richard saw the result, the color draining from his face.

"I'm not a traitor, you have to believe me! I don't know what happened! Everything went as planned like always but whatever went wrong it wasn't me! You have to believe me!" the coyote stood up and shouted, now in a full panic. The weasel simply rested his head on his hand and gave a disinterested look.

"I don't have to do anything, Richard, that's the nice thing about being in charge. To be honest, I don't really care if you're innocent or not. You've made us money, sure, but you're still replaceable, I just need someone to hand over in a few hours, and you're the only one available."

Having found himself trapped, Richard thought flight was the only option left. He took off for the door, only to realize his legs were also cuffed together. He tripped and landed face down on the floor, unable to fight back as a pair of bulls came in to drag him away.

___________________

The small dungeon was filled with the sounds of clinking chains as Richard desperately tried to escape his predicament. The enforcers had dragged him here, suspended him by the chain of his handcuffs, tore the clothes from his body, then quietly left him alone to struggle. There wasn't any real reason for him to be struggling. He was a lot of things, but an escape artist wasn't one of them, and handcuffs couldn't exactly be seduced or bribed. Still, there weren't any other options. What happened to the products after they were delivered may have been unknown to him, but he was far happier keeping it that way. They had a way of never being heard from again.

Richard was about ready to give up when the door opened, the weasel coming back in and politely closing the door behind him.

"Made any progress yet? I must admit you gave a good show while I ate my lunch."

"Please, please, just let me go, I'll do anything! I'll work for free, PLEASE! I haven't done anything to deserve this!" the coyote shouted, tears in his eyes.

"Come on now, do you know how often innocent people you delivered to us said the same things? Probably to you as well. And you expect it to mean anything NOW? What makes you so FUCKING SPECIAL, hm? A slaver like you somehow deserves more consideration than the innocents you kidnapped?" he replied with an increasingly enraged intonation. He stopped his tirade to think for a moment. Hnn... don't want to break character, dial it back. The weasel adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "No matter, the deal is done. I called the client to let him know that there was a change of plans. He was a bit disappointed that he wouldn't be getting the girl he wanted, the one you had promised us, but he said the traitor that fucked it all up would be acceptable."

"I told you I'm not a-". was all he could say before being cut off by a backhand from the weasel.

"And I don't care."

The door opened and the two enforcers came in, carrying a cart for of various items that the coyote was certain he was happy he couldn't see. He looked back at the weasel, planning to give his best last ditch effort to win his freedom when the weasel spoke over him.

"Gag him first, he's a begger, it's getting annoying."

In an instant a huge rubber ball gag was shoved in his mouth and strapped behind his head by one of the enforcers. No amount of shaking could dislodge it, he was stuck.

"Cage him next." The coyote didn't quite understand what that meant, but the weasel was happy to explain. "This was a special request from the client. Most of the time if he uses some form of chastity it's a temporary thing, but for you, he was happy to go permanent." Now he understood, and was panicking for it.

The weasel held up a small metal device appearing to be two halves of a cylinder connected by pairs of loose bolts on either side. The inside of the cage had a row of needles running along the inner edges of the top half, giving it the impression of an iron maiden.

"I hope you like dick piercings, that'd make this so much easier."

Before he could start flailing, the enforcers walked over and pinned Richard to the wall. The weasel grabbed the coyote's sheath and worked a bit to expose the flaccid cock, placing it between the two halves of the cage. The coyote could barely breathe while watching this, trying to brace himself for what was about to happen. Another device of some sort was taken from the cart and placed against the bolts on the cage. With the push of a button, the bolts began to spin and quickly tightened, pressing both halves together and driving the needles inside to pierce through the skin on both sides of his cock. As would be expected, the dungeon was filled with the sound of muffled screams while the weasel stepped back to admire his work.

"It's a new model, completely self cleaning. It'll be with you for the rest of your life, so, you know, enjoy. Oh, and it'll prevent any blood loss from your new piercings, too, nifty little trinket. You can let him down now."

The enforcers lifted the coyote's cuffs off of the hook before dropping him on the ground. He immediately grabbed at his new thick metal cage, freaked out both by its presence as well as the sudden set of piercings he received. The enforcers lifted him up onto his knees while the weasel grabbed another device from the cart. The coyote didn't bother looking this time, still in shock over his new addition. His balls were pulled back by the weasel, who then bolted a humbler around them. The humbler, with its arms extending behind his legs made sure he'd have to stick to crawling from here on out.

"There's one last thing," the weasel said while holding up a syringe. "It'll be easier to do this part with you sedated, can't have you biting after all." The needle was then stuck in his neck and a mystery solution was injected. A feeling of almost comforting warmth flooded the coyote's senses, easing his trauma from the rest of the day. The last thing he felt before everything went fuzzy was his gag being removed and being flipped onto his back. After that, everything became an incomprehensible blur punctuated by deep, ominous laughter.

___________________

A jolt from his surroundings brought Richard back to reality. Everything was dark, he couldn't see anything, but it felt like he was in an enclosed space. Another jolt made him bounce into a wall, making him realize he must be moving. Tight space, currently moving, what he hoped was a tire iron jutting into his back... he realized he must be in the trunk of a car, swearing under his breath before noticing that his entire mouth was pulsing with dull pain. A memory started to come back... the weasel hovering over him after the sedative started to kick in. Something was in his hand... what was it... The object came into focus. A pair of pliers. Richard was almost afraid to check, but it didn't matter, he already knew what it meant, but had to be sure. His tongue felt along his teeth, and sure enough, there was nothing but gums. After being sedated his teeth were removed. He didn't know which to be more upset about, that, or the thick metal prison piercing through both sides of his cock.

As he made his discovery, the car came to a halt. Dread was all he felt as he heard a door slam, followed by footsteps to the trunk. The sudden burst of sunlight blinded him as the trunk opened. While reaching to cover his eyes, he noticed his handcuffs were replaced with shackles welded around his wrists. The weasel looked into the trunk, smiling at the cowering coyote.

"We're here, time to meet your new owner," he said while clipping a leash to the collar the coyote now realized he was wearing.

"Hwease, don do hwis..." the coyote begged as best he could with his now toothless muzzle. His plea was flatly ignored as he was lifted out of the trunk and placed on the ground. A pull to the leash told him he needed to follow the weasel, who he assumed was going to keep walking whether or not he chose to follow. Crawling as quickly as possible behind him, which given that his limbs felt like jelly barely qualified as slow, they approached a sprawling mansion.

In any other circumstance Richard would have been impressed. The mansion looked more like a palace than a home. The walkway was something smooth like marble, for which he was thankful since it made crawling a little less painful. They approached a pair of massive wooden doors which opened as they got closer. A gleeful gray leather-clad donkey was standing in the doorway, rushing forward to give the weasel a big, if somewhat awkward, hug.

"So good to see you, friend. Been far, far too long."

"Indeed, good to see you too, Zac," replied the weasel, brushing himself off once the hug ended. "Sorry again about the snafu, I hope this is acceptable."

Zac leered at the coyote with a look that left him completely paralyzed.

"Yes, looks like he should do well. But come in, come in, you're in time for the party. You will be... joining in, yes?"

"That was the plan, yeah," he replied with a grin. His friend slapped his back while giving a hearty laugh and they headed inside with the coyote reluctantly crawling behind them.

The entryway of the mansion was almost more like the lobby of a hotel than a part of a residence, Richard marveled. The donkey has to be far more loaded than he could imagine, the possibility of being able to negotiate his way out of this was seeming more and more unlikely... if he could even ever be understood again with his teeth gone. It didn't matter, he needed to figure out some way to escape, he couldn't just surrender. It wouldn't be possible now, he was too weak after everything that happened, especially from whatever was in that sedative, but he had to wait for some kind of opening. A yank on his leash signaled him to keep following.

They passed through a set of large doors between the twin staircases leading up to the second floor. The doors opened to reveal a crowd of naked males of various species waiting for the guests of honor to arrive. Seeing the forest of cocks waiting for him, he instantly gave up waiting for an opening. His attempt to turn, stand, and run failed before it started when the humbler painfully stretched his balls back. Falling to the ground, he curled up in the fetal position, holding his aching balls and trying not to get sick. The crowd laughed at this as he was dragged by his leash to the center of the room. They quickly pulled him back to his hands and knees, and he was eye to 'eye' with the head of the donkey's cock flopping out of his leather thong.

"You all know how this goes, I get mouth first, then all bets are off. Have fun!" shouted the donkey before prodding Richard's mouth with his semi-flaccid cock. The coyote held his mouth shut as one last bit of defiance. The weasel, seeing his friend might need a bit of help, approached the coyote from the rear and gave his exposed balls a hard slap. His mouth opened to scream, but was instantly silenced by the donkey's cock shoved down his throat.

While Richard was fond of using the various furs he kidnapped, he only ever went after the females, never ever considering the possibility of fucking a dude. Unfortunately for him it wasn't really his choice anymore. As he gagged around the massive shaft he instinctively tried to bite down, only to hurt his sore gums. The donkey clearly enjoyed the feeling of the attempted attack, giving a sigh before addressing the weasel.

"Ah, thank you for the assistance, friend. Please take his rear first, for your help."

"You don't have to ask me twice," he said while approaching and dropping his pants.

"Guess he still needs to be trained, hm? That's good, I like breaking them."

Richard was too busy trying to breathe to realize what the donkey was saying. Feeling a pair of hands belonging to the weasel poking at his tailhole got his attention, however. He tried to turn an see what it was but was held fast by the donkey, and trying to squirm away achieved no better end. If he could have turned he would have seen that a tall, skinny, white bat had helpfully stepped in to lube up the weasel's cock by giving him a few quick slurps with his long tongue. That was all the preparation he would get.

The probing fingers in his tailhole were quickly replaced by a thick cock pressing in, slowly but determined. Each little thrust earned a pained grunt from the coyote and pushed the other cock a little deeper into his muzzle. The added stimulation to his prostate, he quickly realized, was forcing blood flow to his cock, attempting to achieve an erection, an action that was thwarted by the increasingly tight cage permanently pierced onto him. A groan escaped his throat, making it vibrate around the now thrusting shaft. Feeling this, the weasel tried to match his own thrusts to the donkey's rhythm.

"Oh... oh, this is magnificent! This is the single best mouth I have ever felt, almost like velvet."

"His ass feels just as good, I figured this arrogant little prick was a fan of assplay,guess I was wrong, must be a virgin.

The coyote closed his eyes, trying his hardest to be anywhere else.

After a few more minutes of thrusting both reached their climaxes, letting out loud moans and releasing pulses of cum into their respective orifices. As the pulled out, three new members or the crowd approached.

The first new participant, a short but muscular hyena, knelt down behind Richard and lifted him by his armpits. The humbler reminded him he needed to keep his legs bent, exposing his mildly gaping tailhole. The second new member, the white bat from before, approached them from the front, knelt down as well, and grabbed the hyena's cock. Their intent was a mystery until he held their tips together, pressing both to the dripping tailhole in unison. Richard was in a panic again, there's no way this could work, it'd tear him apart. The weasel alone was too much, but there was nothing he could do to stop them from trying. The bat pressed down on his hips while the hyena lowered him by his armpits. The heads of both cocks entered at once, stretching him to an almost impossible degree. The slickness from the previous fucking eased their way in, but it still hurt more than he could imagine. A long howl escaped his mouth before being muted by yet another long shaft shoved down his throat. The huge black bear that silenced him let out a shudder.

"Oh yeah, you weren't kidding, Zac. This slut's gullet was made fer fuckin'."

"What about his ass, man? Look at it stretch, just keeps going!" the bat shouted while humping alongside the hyena, who grunted in reply.

Tired of waiting on the sidelines, a few more approached to have whatever fun they could. A rat managed to grab his wrists, getting a clumsy handjob while being careful to avoid his claws. A horse and another bear each grabbed a footpaw, slipping their shafts between his toes getting simple footjobs. The growing furpile was a forest of moans, with the frustrated and tortured coyote at the center. The bat accidentally slammed his pelvis into the bound scrotum, giving a fresh new source of pain. The group continued with this setup for several more minutes while the rest of the crowd gathered around to watch.

"Ah, shit, I'm gonna blow," grunted the bat while smacking into the coyote's balls again.

"I'm ready if you are," responded the hyena. With that they both hilted themselves in the stretched out ass, giving a couple more shallow thrusts before climaxing in unison, flooding the reddened tailhole with cum. The bat slipped out first, much to Richard's relief, walking away with a loud cheer and some applause from the crowd. Much to his disappointment, however, the chubby brown bear getting a footjob was quick to take the bat's place. The hyena let out one of his kind's signature laughs.

"I'm good for another round if you are," he said to the dazed coyote, pulling out again so he and the bear could place their tips together, starting over from the beginning.

Richard was distracted from the reentry by the other bear releasing a flood of cum directly into his stomach. The rat getting a handjob quickly followed suit, shooting waves of cum across his face. One stray strand hit him square in the eye, blinding him, something for which he was sadly grateful. Each position and orifice was quickly filled again by fresh members of the crowd, as the others went to the side of the room for refreshments and to recharge.

The night went on like this, an assembly line of different horny men waiting to fuck the coyote however they could. By the time the party began to wind down, the coyote was completely soaked with spooge, dripping from every inch of his body. Both his gums and tailhole stung horribly, though in the latter case it was due to Zac getting one last round in, powerfully driving into his ass while squeezing his balls. The coyote would have shouted, but he was too far gone, dead to the world, to react. The donkey gave one last shuddering deep thrust before exploding, sending a final torrent of cum into his bowels.

Pulling the spent coyote off his cock and dropping him into the huge gathered puddle of jizz, Zac fell onto his back and gave a contented sigh. He shouted for a few servants who quickly entered the room.

"I think we are done, please take this good fellow to his new residence, hm?"

The servants nodded and dragged the slimy coyote to the basement, each holding an arm. Down a flight of stairs to a massive room, bringing him to another small room off to the side containing a small dog cage. Without a fight, Richard let them push him into the small enclosure, barely cognizant of the sound of the cage locking and them walking back out, leaving him in darkness.

Back upstairs, the weasel approached the tired donkey.

"Thanks for the fun time, Zac, but I should be going. You gonna be okay taking the reigns?"

"Oh, absolutely, big orgy parties every night, puppy training during the day with some special surprises here and there, I'm sure it'll be a hardship, but I will handle it," he replied with a smile.

"Alright then, I might be back again soon, or never, we'll see what happens, but do have fun," he added, while walking to a closet door. A small snicker was the last reply he got before the donkey drifted off to sleep. He opened the door, stepping into the closet...

___________________

...which then opened into the central lobby of the special punishment division Milo had created as part of the dungeon, the special place for the worst offenders hell had to offer. The idea here was to create entirely new worlds specific to each resident with custom tailored punishments. The plan wasn't originally for him to join in as he did, but he reconsidered and had some fun trying out his acting chops again. He hadn't done anything like that since college. Between that and torturing the coyote, it was something of a thrill.

Milo gave a few stretches while Bridget approached, having waited behind for him.

"Have fun?" she asked, pushing her glasses up her snout.

"More than I hoped. Almost blew my cover in there once or twice, but it was great. Never realized how much I missed acting. I was considering ending the night with all his previous victims waiting for him in the basement, but I thought it'd be better to save some things for later, he does have eternity after all."

"How much of all that was true?"

"The framework was, I embellished a lot of the details to fit the story I wanted to tell, but the basics... the group he worked for, that was real." Milo rubbed his chin. "I hate that I can't do anything about them, you know, help people who are still alive... not much I can do from here, I suppose..."

Bridget gave a polite nod before he added, "Oh, and it's getting late, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. I'm going to go on a walk to decompress, then pick up Connie from Fred and Fiona. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" Bridget gave a quick thanks before leaving the for the new teleporters he had added. He gave another stretch before heading there himself, using a teleporter to take him directly to his courtyard. After previously seeing the lake from his window he'd been meaning to take a closer look at it, so that seemed as good a place as any for a nice stroll.

There was a light wind blowing in the courtyard, carrying the smell of grass and windflowers with it. Milo stopped for a moment just to appreciate the splendor of it all. On the way to the lake he passed by the horse sundial from the labs, having been recently installed per his orders. A german shepherd was making use of his mouth, almost falling over when he lifted one of his hands to give Milo a friendly wave. Milo smiled and gave a slight wave back before continuing to to his destination.

The wind increased slightly as he approached the shore, causing a group of cattails to gently sway. Looking out into the water, he felt a small amount of regret at never spending more time outdoors when he had the chance. That introspection was interrupted when he noticed something in the distance, like someone else sitting on the shore. This was a surprise, since he hadn't ordered anyone to come out this way. Well, he had created them with some autonomy, it makes sense some would have an appreciation for nature. Might as well say hello.

As Milo walked along the shore the figure came into focus, revealing itself to be none other than Avarice. The raccoon didn't seem to be trying to posture or intimidate as before, quite the opposite in fact. Lying back on the grass, his legs were crossed and his hands were folded behind his head. It almost seemed like he was sleeping since his eyes were closed and he wasn't reacting at all to Milo's approach. Or, at least, he didn't react until Milo sat down next to him.

"I hope you appreciate that I waited for you to come to me this time, since appearing before you didn't go so well before."

"Yeah, I'm not big on surprises, so thanks for the consideration. Now, can you tell we what you're doing here?"

"Not too afraid to talk to me anymore, then?"

"I remembered that you can't hurt me, so, pretty much. And again, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to relax. really, but now that you're here I was hoping we could chat. Without worrying about my brother butting in, I mean." Milo's eyebrow rose. "You're wondering how I don't have to worry? That's because technically the moment you approached the lake, you partially entered my realm. I took the liberty of leeching a part of it over an unused part of your own when I was here before. That was why I had to act like something of a, well, a dick. I needed a distraction so ol' Lust wouldn't notice. Not sure why I hadn't thought about doing this until now. Anyway, I hope you don't mind, consider it a gift."

"Thank you, then, but why would I let you have a foothold here?"

"Because it's in your own best interest, believe it or not. Personally, I don't care if you keep it past tonight. I just thought the civil thing was to give you a chance to help, or at least a warning to stay out of my way."

"You want me to help you steal Chas's power?" It was Avarice's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"He told you about that, hm? That's new, he's normally not very chatty. Interesting. But to answer your question, yes."

"How could you expect me to betray him after all he's done for me?"

The raccoon burst out into a raucous, wheezing series of laughs.

"You'd be more correct if you said 'Done TO me' instead, but I understand your confusion." He sat up and turned to face Milo. "Here, let me tell you a little story, that might help you understand the truth of everything a bit better. Once there was a raccoon who was born and died a slave of an ancient empire. That raccoon was offered the job of caretaker for Greed, which he gladly accepted, more than eager to return the pain he felt his entire short life. There was a problem in that there is a difference between being a good person, and never having the opportunity to do evil. So he schemed and watched and waited for any openings to appear. Time passed and he realized an amulet Greed wore was the source of his powers. He decided to steal it, a feat that he easily accomplished by making monsters out of the damned and using that momentary distraction to take what he wanted."

"So now he had this amulet, but discovered a secret about it. It wasn't the source of Greed's power, it WAS Greed. The closest thing a god has to a soul, infinity compressed into a singularity, his body simply an avatar to interact with his realm. The raccoon absorbed the god's essence and learned everything there was to know. He became disgusted by what he realized was an utterly broken universe, lorded over by hedonist dieties that not only didn't care about mortals, but also chose to actively torment or corrupt them for their own amusement. From that moment on, the raccoon vowed to see every so called god brought low."

To punctuate his statement, Avarice reached into his robes and pulled out a pair of shrunken rat and cat skulls on a gold chain. Before he put them back, Milo could swear he heard them whispering.

"He took down Envy the same way as Greed, and the rest hid away in fear after that, only Lust still being brave, or maybe arrogant enough to leave himself open, and as such, the best possible next target. Still, Lust's more careful than Greed or Envy, keeping his essence hidden rather than out in the open. But the raccoon has an eternity to accomplish his goal, so he's patient. Someday he will steal the powers of every god, and with that, fade away, taking it all with him, leaving mortals the freedom to live their own lives free from the whims of cruel, omnipotent beings who view mortals with either disdain or hate, no matter whether they are good or evil. That's the truth of the situation. Not quite as black and white as you thought, is it?"

Milo sat in silence for several minutes, unsure of how to respond.

"You have a... a point, assuming any of that is true. But that's the problem, isn't it? You can't prove your intent, so why should I believe you'd just stand aside instead of declaring yourself a god over everything? Maybe rewriting existence however you wish?"

"Nothing, but to be clear, your opinion is less important than you realize here, Milo. I'm just saying what's going to happen. In the grand scheme of things, whichever side you choose doesn't change anything."

"Then why are you telling me at all?"

"Maybe I don't like seeing a genuine innocent corrupted and manipulated like you have been. Or maybe I would prefer hurrying this along instead of waiting forever for an opening."

"And maybe I should just tell Chas about this. I'm sure he'd love to hear it."

A low rumble of sickly, snickering laughter filled the air.

"Go ahead and warn him, he already knows I'm planning his downfall, same as I know he wants my own. The only thing he'd find interesting would be that you willingly had a nice little chat with his mortal enemy out of his earshot. And I may not be able to do anything to you, but he's perfectly able to strip you of your power and leave you back in the void, and you adjusted so well to that the first time, didn't you?"

Milo sneered at the raccoon, he didn't like being played like that.

"Well, I think I've said enough for one night anyway. Should be moving along. Give some thought to what I said Milo, there's lots more for me to tell you once you're ready to hear it." Once again, as he finished talking he began to fade away, leaving only his mouth. "I'll see you later. Or not. It's up to you." One last laugh echoed around him as the rest faded out.

The wind whipped around him as he tried to make sense of what happened. There's no way he could ever trust the raccoon, that was a given. But maybe he did fall in behind the goat too... easily? Thinking back on everything, the things he's done since taking the reins, it was easy to see how he may have been corrupted. But the people he tortures are evil, that makes it good, right? They all do deserve it... but then he didn't always check backgrounds. If a bad person got sent above, a good person could get sent below...

Grabbing his head, he stood up and started to walk back to the castle. The goat was right, he had a talent for messing with your head. The best thing he could do for now was ignore it and keep living his afterlife. Maybe the lake could stay, at least for now. He once again entered the castle, happy to see his people having a good time, even though a bit of doubt had wormed into the back of his mind.