FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Ah!”

I can’t feel anything, can’t hear anything… All I can see and smell is the blood. The pool of thick red liquid as it slowly grows around me, soaking into my knees. The smell of it, the scent of fresh blood as it wafts up to my nose, a sharp scent that can one would refer to as metallic, while also holding a distinct difference to the namesake. Also present is the long-lasting echoes, the echoes of other blood spilled in this alleyway, regardless of who or what species, one and the same but different. I see the way the blood ripples in the pool around me, as it drips from my fur, the once golden, sandy yellow colour now tainted, stained this horrible red shade as more blood forces its way around my fingers, exiting the body which it rightfully belongs in and joining the rapidly cooling blood on the ground. The bright colour it has as it exits a wound, like a freshly picked fruit, dulls away as it mixes with whatever contaminants cover the concrete below. I tear my gaze away, to the eyes of my boyfriend. His once lively, always joyful silver orbs now unfocused and dull. His breath comes in short, rapid bursts, each exhale joined by a small flash of blood out of his mouth and nose. The wolf’s ears are splayed back, joining his expression in a now frozen grimace of fear. My ears tune in, just in time to hear his raspy last words.

“J-jai…” he stops, to heave another painful breath.

“I l-love you… Jai…” his voice trails off, and his last breath escapes in a long, drawn out sigh that is both incredibly silent, and absolutely deafening to my ears.

As his heart gives its few, feeble last pumps, the steady flow of blood around my splayed fingers, firmly pressed to the gaping knife wound in his chest, slows to a veritable trickle, a few last drops landing in the puddle below before all goes silent. My heart, having beat at what felt like a million beats a second for the whole time as I watched my lover bleed out, suddenly clenches up, my chest tightening like a noose around my lungs as I come to the horrifying realisation; he is dead. The one who I had loved with all my heart for the past three years, who had come around to my place at four in the morning one cold winter just to give me a beautiful rose and a kiss on the lips, was dead. A choked sob rises up my throat, and I let it out, following it closely with a cry of anguish.

“Is that all you got?”

My heart seizes once more, my blood running cold as I finally remember the other three men in this alleyway. Devin and I had been heading home after a stroll in the park, when we were approached by these three men. They had demanded that we hand over our valuables. When Devin refused them… it all happened so quickly. There was a flash of grey metal, and then Devin fell down, groaning in pain. The men took our wallets and phones, and my handbag, but I was too busy noticing the blood.

“Wh-what?” I’m shaking, my fingers still pressed firmly against the corpse of my lover.

“Fifty bucks, mate. That’s all you’ve got?” The human sneers, and lashes out with a booted foot.

The steel-capped footwear hits me in the shoulder, the impact throwing me into the concrete wall, my fingers causing little trails of blood to splatter on the ground.

“What? You didn’t think I knew that you furries get big money, huh?” he laughs, and presses the cold steel of his switchblade to my throat.

“Please… I don’t have any more money…” I plead, tears running down my cheeks.

He sees my tears, and scoffs. “What a fucking pussy. Not a single nut on you.”

His face suddenly splits into a massive grin, as he comes up with an idea. “Hold him.”

His two accomplices approach, and each grab one of my arms, holding them above my head in such a way that if I tried to escape, I would only cause myself pain.

“Wh-what are you-?” I cry out, panicking as the human draws his knife down, along the line of buttons on my jacket, each one clicking slightly as the sharp tip flicks off.

“You’re such a little pussy. Crying… you probably took it in the ass from this faggot all the-“

“Don’t you dare say anything about Devin! He was ten times the man you are!” I lean forward and yell in his face, not caring that it twisted my shoulders painfully. I gasp and whimper as he grabs my genitals through my baggy shorts, his hand squeezing them painfully.

“You’re no male. You don’t deserve to sully our gender!” The human shouts, and, with one stroke, cuts the front of my shorts and briefs open, exposing my sandy-furred sheath to the cool night air.

I try my hardest to get away, trying to kick him away, but he’s too close, my paws can’t get purchase, and my claws are too dull to catch on his tight clothing. I let out a terrified squeak as the knife presses against my crotch. “Please… please don’t…” I beg, more tears streaming from my face, but the human pays no notice, and just grins and starts fondling me. My body betrays me, the tip of my canine cock peeking out of my sheath. The humans just laugh and jeer.

“Bet he likes it from dogs, too, eh.” One of them says.

“Maybe we should take him round mine, see how he likes my German Shepherd.” They laugh, but I can’t help but notice the sincerity in his voice. Their joking stops however, with a sharp glare from their leader. He grins at me, and pokes my now fully-erect penis with the knife, the sharp pain making me tense up and let out a little yip of surprise.

“You know, I was gonna just kill you.” He says, leaning in to press the edge of the blade against my throat again, the metal cool against my flesh.

He grins again, the evil glint in his eyes burning like a fire. “But, I think you should suffer!” he screams the last word, and viciously grabs my sheath and scrotum, the pain choking a cry from my lungs. I scream in fear as he raises the knife, and plead desperately with this mad-man to not do what he intends.

But my cries of mercy fall on deaf ears, and I watch in horror as the blade falls…

Intense pain, more intense than anything I had ever felt, overwhelms me. My hands suddenly freed, I throw them instinctively to my area, only to find a few shreds of flesh and even more blood. Warm and sticky, it gushes out of my wound, soaking my thighs as the humans watch on in sick glee. The leaders evil eyes meet my own for a fraction of a second, then he turns and tosses my severed junk over the fence, into the train yard. Seemingly satisfied with their work, they grab their bounty – mine and Devin’s iPhones and all of our cash – and sprint away, out of my view. Yet more tears prick at my eyes, threatening to turn into a torrent as I come to terms with my own end. Bleeding from my destroyed crotch, my own blood now mixing with Devin’s on the ground. I am sure that I am going to die, just like him. I am going to die, with the indignity of being half naked in a dirty alleyway, robbed of my dick by a trio of humans, just because we wouldn’t hand them the paper in our pockets. The steady light of the streetlight over my head starts to dim, my eyes beginning to close of their own accord as my life flows out of my body. My heart pounds, thundering in my ears, pushing that very life force out of me, each pump is to the beat of my final march; to my end. I do hope that wherever I end up, whatever happens after I die, I get to be with Devin, body and soul. I knew he wanted to be buried, and on our wills, it said we were to be buried together so that we may never part…

I dimly hear the sounds of sirens, but it barely registers as I turn my head. The effort is massive, my head suddenly weighs a million tonnes, and my neck is nearly frozen. I lock eyes with Devin, possibly for the last time. “I love you, too… Devin…” I manage to croak, then everything goes dark…

“AAH!” I wake, screaming. My hands fly to check my body. Head? Check. Ears? Double-check. Crotch? Yes. I sigh in relief, realising that it was just a dream. A horrible, terrible dream. I must’ve been so tired on the walk home that I don’t remember what- huh? As I turn to wake Devin, I realise I’m not in our bed. Our bed is a double, and doesn’t have metal bars on the sides. With a painful flash of light, the room erupts in a sea of white. I clench my eyes shut, ears flattened against my head. After a few seconds, the afterimage of pure white fades, and I crack my eyelids. I’m in a strange room, with tiled walls and floors, the entire ceiling composed of opaque, yet light-emitting, panels. Counters run along the walls to my left and right, and a full suite of monitors are arranged behind me, the only one that makes sense being the heart-rate monitor, beeping rapidly to match my shocked heart.

“Wh-where am I?” I stammer, reaching for the edge of the covers.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and three furs enter the room, each of them in blue nurses scrubs, one of them also wearing a white doctors coat.

“What’s going on? Where’s Devin?!” I shout, trying to get away as they reach for me, but they’ve got me cornered against the wall, and my wrists are soon grabbed.

“Mr Petrov, please calm down!” yells the man in the doctors coat, the wolf struggling to keep his glasses perched on his muzzle with how I thrash in his grip.

“Where is Devin?!” I ask them, almost pleading. I stop trying to escape their grip, hoping they’ll tell me.

“Ah… Mr Mihaylov passed before the medics arrived… I’m sorry.”

I don’t hear the last two words, not over the cry of pure sadness that erupts from my throat, tears streaming anew down my cheeks. I slump back on the bed, feeling like my heart was torn from my chest, replaced only with a pain. A pain that might never go away…

The doctors back off, leaving me to my sorrows, to sob and cry non-stop for the next two fall days, stopping only when exhaustion takes over and forces me to sleep. I do not want to sleep, but I cannot stop my body from needing to. The doctors come and go over that time, barely registering on my shattered consciousness as they bring food, then just as quickly take the untouched remains away.

One the third day, my tears run out. My voice has long broken to a hushed whisper, and it’s all I can do to ask for a glass of water as the nurse comes in, with the breakfast tray that now rests upon my lap. Graciously, the female mouse leaves the room, and swiftly returns with a tall glass of cool water, which I quickly gulp down. I thank her, and she just smiles before inviting me to eat. She leaves as I pick at my food, and, unable to stomach too much, I leave most of it behind and just stare out the window. The trees of Central Park sway and bow in the wind, their leaves glistening with rain, while water pelts and runs down the window.

“Mr Petrov?”

I look up at the mention of my name. A female fox is standing in the doorway, her dress short and curt, just like the bun her auburn hair is pulled into. Completing the look, a pair of small, round glasses are perched on the bridge of her canine muzzle. Her amber eyes smile as much as her lips do as she speaks again.

“My name is Carla Vaughan, and I’m from the Seacrest Genetics Institute. We heard of your case on TV, and we have decided that you qualify for a Victims Package!” she says cheerily, sitting on one of the available seats and scooting it up to the bedside.

“V-Victims Package?” I repeat her words, confused.

“Yes. Normally we would require a fee from the patient, but it is a priority of ours to help people in need, whether it’s a psychological need or physical impedance. Your situation definitely qualifies.”

I’d heard of the Institute, but “Well, what does that entail, exactly?”

She just smiles more, and replies “It means we will, for no cost, repair your injury to how it was before!”

I just sit there, thinking. Before all this craziness happened, Devin and I were thinking far ahead in our lives. We were thinking of getting married, and then we both wanted kids. But not adopted kids, our own kids. Our own, biological children.

“Ms Vaughan… if I do this… do I have to go back to having a… a penis?”

She seems surprised at my response, and tilts her head while still looking at me. “I’m not quite sure. Let me just check…” She fishes through her handbag, and pulls out a sheet of paper and reads it.

I wait patiently as she goes over whatever information is on that sheet of paper, until she stops and says “I see no implicit specification that the victim be returned to their previous gender. Why, do you wish to transition?”

I nod. “Yes. Me and… me and Devin were thinking of having kids. I’d started saving for the procedure… I just want to change my genitals. I want to use Devin’s stored sperm to conceive a child. His child.”

Carla’s eyes fill with sadness. “You truly loved him, didn’t you?”

I nod sadly, more tears welling in my eyes. “We had planned a whole life for ourselves. Marriage… Kids… And all that stolen from me – from us – just for some bloody money and cellphones!” I start crying, purely at the injustice of it all. We were so happy together, and these guys just screwed it up. Devin lost his life, and those guys will probably just end up in a jail cell for the rest of theirs.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr Petrov. But those of us at the Institute would like to offer you our services. We can assist you through the transition, and even with conception, if you’d like?”

I nod immediately. “Of course. I could never turn down an offer like that.”

Later, after Ms Vaughan leaves, the doctors come by to redo my bandages. I am nervous, to say the least, as they start cutting away the fabric strips. They peel the layers of bandage off of my crotch, revealing a massive, bloody lump of gauze. I start to feel nauseous as they slowly remove the gauze, small blood marks appearing on their gloves where contact is made. Bile rises in my throat as I see the shattered remains of where my manhood once was now tattered shreds of flesh surrounded by more bloodied tissue. Blood immediately begins to seep out, turning the flesh red. A new gauze is applied, and I gasp in pain as the liberally applied antiseptic stings and cleans my wound. Fresh bandages are quickly applied, forming a sort of ‘makeshift underwear’ with bandages being wound around my hips to hold everything in place.

“Okay, try to stand, please.” One of the doctors – a male wolf probably in his mid- to late-fourties – asks me.

I slowly swing my legs over to the edge of the bed, wincing as it pulls stiff and broken muscles across my waist. With an unsteady grip on the edge of the bed, I place my footpaws on the ground and push myself off the bed. I wobble, my body unsure if it should be working while so broken, but I manage to keep my balance. The doctors had already explained that I am to be moved to the Institute, so when they produce a pair of baggy pants and a large jacket, I am not surprised. I need some help to get the pants on, and I wince as the crotch of the pants bumps my wound. With each step sending a spike of pain up my spine, and has me worried that I will start bleeding anew, I allow myself to be led through the hospital to the covered, indoor garage. Crouched with a somewhat angry expression on the painted concrete floor, a black Sports Activity Vehicle is waiting, and I assume waiting for me. Black paint, black windows, and tinted head- and tail-lights, it looks extremely out of place next to the ambulance parked next to it. I carefully climb into the open backseat, and find Ms Vaughan waiting there. She smiles as I close the door and do up my seatbelt.

The vehicle crawls out of the garage with a muted purr, and I realise why it has such darkly tinted windows. Outside, a mob of press and reporters is waiting, cameras flashing and the crowd clamouring. I shy away from the window, watching as the crowd is left behind.

“What on Earth was that?” I wonder aloud, glancing out the rear window at the crowd as it disappears around a bend in the road.

“Your story has gathered quite a bit of interest, these past few days.” Carla explains.

“Why?” I ask, not having seen the news or checked online since it happened.

She picks a sheet of paper from her bag and offers it to me while explaining. “They found out one of the guys who attacked you. He still had evidence of your blood on him. He shot an officer, and now there’s a manhunt.”

“What? A manhunt?” I pale, while being directed to look at the paper in front of me. It’s simple enough; my name, age, species, things like that. What gender I want to be…

Taking the proffered pen, and fill it out, before handing it back. Carla does not say any more, and I just lean back and try to relax…

The Institute is in a fairly non-descript industrial complex, until I realise that there are no other businesses here.

“Is this all part of the Institute?” I ask, as we exit the vehicle.

Carla nods, and leads me towards the entrance. “Yes it is.”

She holds the door for me, and I enter into a very sterile-feeling reception area. It’s all white tiled, and even the benches against the wall are white. The only colour comes from marked lanes on the floor, no doubt leading to different parts of the complex. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the sheer brightness.

“Okay, Mr Petrov. My time with you has come to an end. I’ll hand you over into the very capable hands of Dr Reston.” Carla says, as a weasel in a doctor’s cat appears. The female weasel smiles and offers her hand, which I gladly shake.

The doctor then introduces herself. “I’m Dr Reston. You can call me Vera. I’m to be overseeing your transition today.”

I smile and nod. “Jaidyn Petrov. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Well, I have to go now. I wish you good luck, Jaidyn.” Carla says, before walking away.

“You ready for this?” Vera asks, clapping her hands and rubbing her palms together excitedly.

I nod, and she grins. “Let’s go then.” She says, and turns to lead the way.

On the way, I take the time to look around. The place is a maze of corridors, but the stripes on the floor seem to signify something to Vera, so I just follow her and trust that I won’t get hopelessly lost.

Eventually, the endless corridors lead us to a door, the digits ‘195’ printed in simple font on the wall next to the frame. A simple swipe of a keycard by Vera, and a chime rings out. The door unlocks with a ‘click’, and we enter. A hospital-style gurney stands alone in the centre of the room, with a bench across the back wall and a desk with desk chair against the right side, a monitor sitting on the surface with the Institute logo as a wallpaper.

“I’ll need you to remove your clothing, and lay on the bed.” Vera says, going over to the bench and grabbing a pair of latex gloves from a dispenser affixed to the wall.

Somewhat embarrassed, I remove the jacket, an easy task, but stop when I get to the pants. I feel my ears heat in a blush, and I say “I need help with the pants. I… I can’t bend over.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that. Here, let me.” Vera says, coming over to help. I sit back on the gurney as she tugs the pants down to my ankles, and then off, leaving me wearing only the bandages.

Lying down on the gurney, I ask “What about the bandages?”

Vera just smiles. “I’ll remove the bandages, don’t worry. When you wake up, you’ll be all healed up!”

I force a smile. Nothing can heal the hole in my heart. I wait patiently as Vera prepares her equipment, setting up a small table next to the gurney with a single hypodermic needle, loaded with some sort of red liquid.

The next thing she produces is a small pink inhaling mask. “This is to put you to sleep. “ Vera explains, gently placing it over my mouth and nose. I breathe deeply, the gas smelling slightly of pine…

When I come to, I am lying on my back still, but instead of the cool air against my fur, I feel warm fabrics instead. I crack my eyes open and look around. The walls are painted a soft brown colour, and the ceiling is charcoal black, with little lights forming a the Orion constellation brightly with more lights filling the gaps. There are no monitors, no constant beeping, and the sheets are navy blue instead of the usual medical white. A plain red t-shirt has appeared around my body, and, pulling the sheets up, I see that I’m dressed also in a pair of black pants. The door suddenly chimes, and I drop the sheets. Dr Reston appears, sans her doctor’s coat. Instead she has a big, warm-looking, woollen purple jersey on, giving her a weirdly normal appearance.

“Good afternoon, Mr Petrov.” She says, smiling warmly as she walks over to the bed.

“Good afternoon?” I wonder, confused.

She nods. “You’ve been asleep for nearly a whole day. It’s given us plenty of time to do all we needed to do.”

“All you needed to do?” Why does she have to be so ambiguous?

“Yes. Your transition is complete, all the tests are done, and we’ve even successfully created and implanted an embryo from your new eggs, and your… boyfriends sperm sample.” She explains, her voice quietening as she finishes.

I smile; thinking how, in nine months, there’ll be a little bit of Devin in my arms once again. “Thank you.” I say, one hand moving to my belly. Flat now, I know it’ll soon be swelling up with mine and Devin’s child. I hope that somehow, wherever he is, Devin is watching me, and continues to watch me…

It tears me up, seeing Jaidyn there, alone but for the Doctor. He doesn’t know I’m here, standing at the foot of his bed. He probably will never know. But, as I hear his thoughts of me, I can only smile and reach out to touch him, my hands passing cleanly through his physical form. ‘Don’t you worry, Jaidyn. I’ll never break my promise. I’ll always be there for you…’

Authors Space---

Hey guys, it’s been a while. I’ve been busy with life, but I managed to finish something for you guys. This creation was born in a single night, so there may be plot holes, and some help with the tags would be greatly appreciated.

If you liked it, please leave a comment or a fave – or both – and if you want to see more of my creations, you can watch my profile as I try to produce more works for you guys.

Thank you for reading!