FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Babe! I have to go open the store! Will you come in later and help me- please! Adam called in sick again!" Skye's voice broke through the house, easily echoing through the hall as her feet clamped into the carpet. The steady padding of her steps got softer and softer as she followed the length of the hallway leading away from the bedroom towards the front door on her way out already. Nick groaned in response, grabbing at the soft mush of the pillow beneath his head before he grunted back a sort of affirmation and dove back in to hide from the harsh rays of the sun escaping into the bedroom.

“Don't be a lazy ass!" She called out once more before he heard the thunk of the door close, leaving the apartment in a blissful silence that let him sleep.

---

“Stupid Adam. I can't believe he gets sick every Saturday morning shift, it's almost as if he makes himself sick! Almost like he was out drinking on Friday and just doesn't want to come into work with a hangover like the rest of us buck up and do!" Skye groaned, smacking on furred first into the steering wheel before she shook out her loose, damp red hair and started the car and began back out of the garage. She exhaled one long breath, rolling her eyes before she bobbed both shoulders and set her face in a state of half cheer.“It's all going to be okay. We're just going to go through the motions, go through the motions..."

Then, she raised up one hand to hover it over the ON button of the radio before she deflated it down in a press and smiled, “And rage."

Then, with that simple click, music flooded the car in a blast of awakening noise.

“Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floor! Let the bodies hit the floooooor! Beaten why for, *why for*! Can't take much more- Here we go!"

Into a shouting match of morning presumptive stress release, Skye fell. Her entire drive took her through a playlist named, “Fuck Adam" filled with her favorites of the raging lyrics that led her head bang, hair flutter, and fingers bang into the steering wheel as she took the memorized path to their local Gamestop- her second home really.

Turning the corner, spying the familiar parking lot near Gamestop hovering just up ahead, Skye began to swivel the wheel with one hand when a jolt stopped the car while her head continued forward, whipping forward and back on her neck. A sudden smashing crunch filled the air as the metal of the front of her car screamed out as it's spine was crumbled and folded inward on itself. A holler of the engine sputtering out, exhaust bellowing in a sharp exhale.

Instantly, the red panda felt her body pitch forward. The car had came to a full stop, but the motion of her body didn't until it slammed into the limit of the belt strap across her chest. The seatbelt locked and tightened on her, biting her flesh diagonally across bosom. Glass crunched, shattered. The hood of the front of the car disappeared into a crunched bundle sounding like a twisted amplified potato chip being devoured. Distantly, through a buzzing flood of noise in her ear, Skye heard a high pitched shriek fill the air while the rustling, banging noise of cars sounding out.

For a brief moment, Skye saw two massive eyes of another driver boring into her own before the air bag exploded in front of face, burning against her skin even through the layers of fur. Then, the sound of that initial smash echoed out again as another car seared through the intersection. Skye felt a sudden jolt into her side. She felt her body jolt to the side. Her mirror crackled, sending a spittle of glass onto her form before she felt her head slackened. Her eyes fluttered. Her nose twitched, breathing in a sudden rush of the burnt smell of chemicals.

Her head lurched to the side. Something hot, wet, and sticky trickled down her forward. “Why is my hair so wet?" She thought, starting to reach before the twitch in her hand made her entire arm explode with sudden pain.

A biting, cutting sound of silence followed when the noise all suddenly stopped. Her ears both rang- repeating one, high note. Bewildered, head starting to continue slumping onto her shoulder, Skye felt the trickling wetness curve around her eye before she thought: “I hope I'm not late to work..."

---

“MacGruber!" Nick jolted up in bed, frightened with the sudden noise of his phone's ringtone going off.

“That tricky girl... Turning my phone on- waking me up- just wants help-" Nick grumbled unintelligibly as his hand blindly groped the night table for the screaming phone. Finally, he grabbed it, feeling the small trickle of paper taped to it's back before he flicked to answer.

“Hello-" He mumbled, rolling back towards the pillow now that he had the source of the noise silenced.

“Is this Nick?"

A strain of confusion began to nag at Nick's mind. He'd expected Skye and the dull noise of Gamestop as she demanded he wake up now and come help her open. He rolled back up into a slumped sitting position. “Yes, yes. That's me."

“Sir, I'm sorry to inform you there's been an accident."

“W-what?"

“You were listed as an Emergency contact. There has been a multi-car crash at the intersection of..." Nick stopped hearing the actual words. He just started hearing an echo, “There's been an accident... There's been an accident..."

“Sir?"

“Sorry. I- uh. I'm sorry."

“The ambulances are headed to- One moment, apologies." A sudden rustle broke the man's voice away from the speaker. A distant, muffled version spoke away before a sudden, rushed back and forth sent little blasts of noise into the speaker before the clear voice returned. “Sir. I'm so sorry. Skye was just pronounced dead. She experienced severe blunt force trauma to her entire body, but the cause of death was a head injury due to the second car hitting the driver's side. Sir, a squad car can be dispatched to you if you're in need of assistance."

Nick didn't respond. He wasn't hearing the man anymore. Some part of him muttered a response, something that sent the man away. Then, the phone clicked off. Apparently, he'd hung up. Or, maybe the police officer had.

He rolled his feet towards the floor, something urging him to move out of this spot. Slowly, as though his entire body was sapped of it's energy, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed. There, he saw the post it note that'd been on his phone, that'd tickled when he picked up. It had fallen off, landing on the carpeting. It was pink, bright pink and one of the miniature post-it notes, not the regular size. “Don't be a lazy bum! Come help me!" It read, scribbled out beside a little doodle, almost a heart and almost a smile. Like she couldn't decide which and had drawn both without realizing they were on top of each other in the limited space of the paper.

“Come help me?" Nick read again, feeling something in his chest start to hitch. For the first moment, since the call, he started to digest the information. His entire chest heaved forward, a short gust of breath hooking inside his throat and starting to bob back and forth. The breath never seemed to fully escape or return to him, since he didn't feel the relief of breathing, just the desperate need for air. “S-she asked for my help!"

His hands found the bedsheet, grabbing tightly onto it. His eyes were huge, widened and swaying over the carpet, like he would find more notes explaining this. “No.. No.. That... She's at work." He started to stand up. His feet wobbled for a moment, finding the carpeting, but then Nick strode forward. Falling into his usual motions like a zombie, limbs heavy and slow, he combed his hair, sloshed mouth wash over his teeth, and found his lanyard for work before plodding to the door. In the car, his hands were on autopilot. Through the streets, he maneuvered towards Gamestop, but then, at the final turn into the parking lot he saw the cars.

Skye's car was crumbled into the front of another car that had blasted through the stop sign of the four way intersection. The two cars looked like they'd tried to swallow one another and morphed into one being. Another car was mashed into the side of Skye's. His mind started to roll over this information, trying to figure out where Skye could be if that car was in her spot. Car doors, broken off, were laid away from the wreckage. Broken shrapnel of the crash scattered over the ground. Police cars blocked off the areas while a spattering of men in emergency responder garb hunched down around a black clump.

“That's a body bag..." Nick realized, oblivious to the fact that he'd just stopped in the lane. The road was closed off to the crash anyways, no one honked at him. He just sat there, gripping the wheel till his knuckles began to ache and pale into white knobs as his mind worked over the sight in front of him. The men squatted down around a body bag, still open as they tucked and adjusted something brilliant, coppery red inside the black confines. Then, the zipper began to rise up, swallowing the glimpse of that color.

“Skye!? Skye!" Nick felt a sudden flood of realization. His entire body lurched. He toppled out of the car, leaving the door open with a long, chiming beep of the ajar warning calling out behind him as he threw himself onto the pavement. He ran to the edge of the scene, only to find himself sudden frozen within the arms of a dark man. “Sir, this is a accident. You can't come here."

“Skye! Skye! That's Skye!"

Another officer looked over, striding towards Nick. “Are you Nick?"

His head bobbed. His eyes were massive, searching around the scene. The men with Skye. Skye and the body bag. The men with the body bag were walking away.

“Nick, you're experiencing shock right now. Your mind is trying to process everything. Come here." Someone led him away from the accident. He felt himself sitting. Everything was bright and dark. His eyes sparkled with wetness.

Then, he woke up in a bed.

“Oh, Nick!" The shrill voice of his mother suddenly had him blinking awake.

“Am I at home?" He asked, sitting up only to feel a tug at his arm. He looked, seeing a thin tube leading from his arm up to an IV bag. “Where am I?"

“You're at the hospital." His father said, swiveling his eyes over the opposite side of the bed where his father stood. “You passed out at the scene."

“The scene?" He asked, still groggy. His mother clasped his hand, so tightly. He felt his skin tighten and the knuckles ache a little in her grasp. “Oh, honey. It'll come back to you. Sssh..." She whispered.

His dad placed a tight hand on his shoulder. He squeezed.

“The scene?" Then, his mind jolted. In a rushing blur, he saw the crunched cars. He heard the man's voice, “There's been an accident." He saw the coppery red get swallowed by black.

“Oh my God. No. No. That was a dream. This is a prank. This is-" He moved up. His head swung back and forth, searching for Skye in the room. He waited to see her peeking in from the hallway, laughing at him. He was ready to hear her say, “I so got you!"

“This isn't real-"

“Honey, it is. She was killed on impact. The second car-"

“No! No she wasn't! No! No! No!"

“The adrenalin in her body would have blocked any pain-"

“No!" Nick shouted again. He turned, ripping the IV out from his wrist before he stomped onto the tiled floor. He made it out the door and into the hospital's hallway before his parents even had time to lift themselves from their frozen, stock positions beside the bed. A nurse, flustered at his sudden appearance, jumped when he burst out through the door.

“Where's Skye? Which room is she in? Tell me where Skye is!" His eyes were huge, searching frantically for a sign of her. When the nurse didn't respond, he began down the hallway, sweeping his eyes over the window of each door while a nurse hurriedly followed after him. “Sir, Sir... Come back to the room." A sudden, firm grasp grabbed onto his arm and stopped him.

His head swiveled, seeing the sudden soft expression of a smooth-faced seal. The male gave a small, sad smile before a hand gently pressed into his shoulder. “Let's go have a talk, hmm?" He murmured. Something in his expression, in the droop at the edges of his smile that cut it off from being a true, fully lifting smile, broke Nick's passion. He deflated and slumped into this stranger's side and let him lead him away- down the hall- and back into a small office.

Seated there, sitting next to an unknown, sad-smiling stranger, Nick finally let himself stop and cry.

---

“Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone? Do you want me to stay?" Rounded, green eyes stared at him. Redness rimmed around their edges, but her jaw was set firm. Soft paws held onto both of his shoulders, steadying him so he would keep eye contact instead of listlessly looking away.

For a moment, Nick didn't respond. He just slumped slightly towards the apartment door.

“That's it. I'm staying. Just so someone is there." She said firmly, before guiding him by the arm into the apartment. He padded in slowly, instantly stilling once he'd crossed over the threshold. His eyes fell onto the bookshelf.

The colors, every shade of the rainbow, somehow seemed dulled. His eyes drew to the glowing yellow of the Pacman lamp, a sad smile flickering onto his lips as he walked mummy like to run his fingers along the smooth wood. A finger touched to the top of each of the ghosts- Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde

He bent lower, staring into the gray section. His fingertip traced down the spine of the most prominent of the books: The Portrait of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. He remembered exactly when Skye had introduced him. It'd been earlier in their relationship. They'd been swapping books to learn each other better. He remembered the first date when all the awkwardness had really, truly faded. They'd met in a coffee shop, The Spotted Gecko. He remembered the smell of real caramel they swirled over the top of each beverage, touching black coffees with sweetness. They'd sat, side by side on an aged, cushy couch and cracked the spine of the books they'd brought for each other.

She'd handed him The Portrait of Dorian Gray. He'd wrinkled his nose. “This seems a bit pretentious for you-"

“This book offends. This book was censored, cut down, watered." She'd turned. She'd grabbed onto his wrist hard enough he felt the little prickles of her claw-like fingernails. He couldn't ever remember feeling such a feeling before. “This book is meant to expose duplicity, but it was a naughty book at it's time." She'd been so passionate, so spurred. He knew she hadn't just picked a favorite book to share with him, she'd meant to actually teach him something between the lines of that script.

A long sigh left his lips, wisping out. The Walkers stalking in front of the gray spines momentarily received his stare. He imagined Skye's fingerprints of their sides from when she'd placed them, so delicately onto the scene of the shelf. He mimed the motion, not moving them, just holding where he imagined her fingers had sat.

He moved to the Yoshi bookend, carefully supporting the green novels. His finger dipped, touching to the small chip in its corner. “Skye dropped it-" He said aloud, surprisingly his caretaker with the sound of his exhausted, rasping voice.

“She'd been so excited to show me a quote from The Green Mile she'd just whipped it off the shelf and took the whole book end with. It flew... across the room," Slowly, he turned to see the spot on the rub where he could still picture the indent from the heavy piece. He pointed, hand only half raised. “It fell right there, only broke a chip off though. I thought she'd cry she was so upset to see it break, but I told her..." His voice cracked, softening to a mere whisper. “I told her it was like Beauty's tea cup, that that chip would come to mean something special."

His eyes tipped, still listless. Red bled along the rims and deep gray set beneath them in a half-circle, creasing every half inch in another deep set wrinkle. He took two, stiff steps towards the couch. His eyes lifted, seeing their wall sticker. The pale gray of the Loading bar where they'd pasted the individual photos from photobooth strips into the bar. “Loading a life together...." He whispered, remember their words.

His eyes found their lips smeared with frosting, featuring a sudden guest feature of the familiar canine who now stood listlessly in his kitchen. The vintage Photobooth in the donut shop had printed out half of every picture, blotching out parts of their faces but leaving their mouths. They were so wide, showing off sprinkles clinging to their smiles.

Photos from malls, kisses captured in a flash second, laughter disrupting their expression, tongues out, noses wrinkled, matching face paint from an amusement park booth... He let out a choked sound, tracing the most recent photos edges. They'd taken it just a week before. They'd been at the mall, stuffed full of cheap Chinese food well Skye'd grabbed his arm.

“Let's take a photo! Come on! Come on!" She'd pulled him into the booth, sitting on his lap and leaning into his side. It'd been perfect, cute and coupley, but the flash had been accompanied by an unexpected, automated voice yelling: “Smile wide!" That spooked him so badly she'd fallen right off his lap. The snapshot caught her mid-fall, lips spread wide in a massive laugh and Nick's own face captured in a half second of panic.

“That always was Skye... she'd laugh when I was terrified..." His head swiveled on his neck loose and heavy until he stared down at the couch. His arms scrabbled around, pulling one of the fuzzy, white rounded pillows onto his lap. He slumped over it, letting out a long whine.

“What am I going to do without her?" He finally said, dropping the words out with a scratchy gasp. He saw his life before. The sudden memory of coming home from work, slumping into the basement and hiding within a pair of headphones filled his mind. He saw the same things they'd done, but before Skye. Getting Chinese food alone wasn't an adventure, it'd been lunch; but with Skye, when they took hands and fled for cheap food Skye's face had lit up as though they found a long hidden waterfall.

Then, he saw life now. Their bedroom, a private galaxy. Falling asleep with her breath tickling the bottom of his chin and the pressure of her on his chest. Her hair always falling in his face, practically smothering him. The sensation of her fingertips sliding up his arm, tracing the veins beneath the skin until she fell asleep mid-motion. Waking up after she'd already shuffled into the bathroom. The sight of her bare back, fur glossy and lush as she faced the mirror, brushing through the long strands. The whisk-whisk-whisk of her tail tip of the carpeting when she found her way through the dark room. Always sound, no matter how small or gentle to alert him of where she was.

The fluffy, deflating white of whipped cream on the tip of her black nose hovering over the sight of golden yellow, pancakes stacked on a plate.

“How could life go back to normal after all that? Can it even? How can it?" He looked up, mouth suddenly open. The bottom lip just slackened before his eyes found the canine's. “How can it? Huh? How could life ever go back after that? How can I pretend that I can sleep alone when I know that half of the bed is empty? How could I get up and eat a granola bar for breakfast when I tasted fresh pancakes and hot cocoa? How could I put headphones on and drown out the world in a game without the sound of her laughter inside of those headphones too? How could I just hear music? Soundtracks that don't mean anything? How can I even open my closet when I have all of her t-shirt memorized?"

“Self-Saving Princess!" From the first day I asked her out, finally after trying for so long to get up the nerve!; “Yoshi's Biggest Fan!" From when we unpacked my closet in the apartment and our stuff finally mixed and I never had to say I lived with my parents again; “I Fly Starships" from when you met her for the first time and you looked at her once and said “I approve of this one!"; “Love You I Do" from the day after I finally said “I love you" officially because she said that she'd been waiting for me to say it first, but wanted proof that she realized it first...."

“How... How can I do anything without her?" His eyes suddenly tipped up, wet and dripping freely of tears. His face was streaked with them, tracking down her cheeks while his friend rushed over, grabbing around his shoulders in a tight grip.

“I'm not going to be able to do it. I'm not strong enough for this. I got it once. You only get this lucky once. I got it already. Now it's gone. I lost it. I lost her. Don't you get it? I lost her. She needed help... She told me to come with. I could have seen the car. I could have stopped her. I-I-I-" His voice sputtered out and deep sobs finally broke free from his chest.

For minutes, silence filled the room except for wet, sucking sobs and the soft, murmured “sssshhhhh"'s of his closest friend. When he'd quieted, only because he'd exhausted his tank, did the girl shift away.

“I'm making you a cup of soup and some tea. You just need to eat something." She patted one shoulder, leaving him clutching onto the same pillow before he reached down into the folds of the couch, shuffling a hand around in the cushions.

Withdrawing his palm, both hands clutched together he sat for a long second just rocking, murmuring to himself, and holding the item from the couch. Rounding out of the kitchen, the canine watched as he opened his hands to show the plain, black velvet box on his palm.

“I was going to ask her. I wanted it to be perfect. I couldn't figure out which day, how, to go big... go small... what was important. I had to get all the details, but now.... Because I thought that was important, now I'll never get to ask her at all."

His eyes closed, a hand wrapping around them, “I thought... that is... was important."

“But it wasn't."

“Nick?"

He twitched at the sound of his name finally before tipping his head up and opening his eyes.

Then, in front of him, he saw the rounded, heart shape of her face. Pale, coppery fur covered her forehead and cheeks before white filled down around the bottom half of her face. From beneath her eyes came the two stripes of caramel-y brown. Pointing, triangular ears splayed up from the top of her head, peering out from the piles of deep red tendrils of hair. Her mouth parted slightly, parting to show just a glimpse of his fangs and the pink of her tongue.

Her jaw twitched, preparing to speak. He waited, hesitant before her face split into a smile. Blush colored just beneath her eyes and the thick sweep of her black lashes. Behind her head, he suddenly saw the backdrop of the dots of stars and the swirls of the galaxy painted onto their bedroom ceiling.

Her lips shifted, moving, speaking.

“Good morning! Happy April Fool's Day, love!"