FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A faint beeping sound. That was all he could hear. Beep. Beep. A slight ring in his ear began to arise, coupled with deep murmurs. He could barely make them out.

“... one... alive... over..."

He tried to open his eyes, but he was unable to get the muscle control to do it. He just tried to focus on something, anything. He felt like he was moving, but with no real awareness of it, like a ship on the ocean, with no light to be seen anywhere.

“... give... some time... thaw..."

After what felt like a week-long struggle, he finally opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but above him, a single light beamed down, illuminating him. “Mm..." Cranking his head over, he saw he was completely nude, laying on some sort of hospital bed. “Hm?"

“Ah, there you are." A voice finally came to him, from the other side of the room. He turned to look to the voice, and it seemed to belong to a large, slovenly man, in a dirty white lab coat and a grey mask covering his mouth, who sloshed his way over to the bedside. “You're finally awake, that's good. We don't have a lot of time to spare."

His voice was hoarse and strained, but he managed to speak a bit. “Where... am I...?"

The fat man chortled, the light reflecting off of his bald head. “You were cryogenically frozen, of course! Welcome to the future, citizen!" His voice was muffled behind the mask.

“...What?"

“Now, don't worry, we've already given you a shave, don't want that pesky body hair getting caught in anything, now do we? Oh, and your mask, of course." He quickly put another grey mask over his patient's mouth. “Now, before you totally lose all your numbing agent, let's make sure you've got your chip." The doctor, not even giving his patient a chance to react, attached a clamp to the left arm and, with a clunk, embedded a chip into the flesh.

“Gah! Wh-what are you doing?!"

“Relax, fellow citizen, here in the future, the chip serves all of our needs! The chip is man's best friend!" The doctor maintained his oddly jovial attitude, helping to sit his patient up in the bed. “There we go. We will get you outfitted as soon as we can, and get your chip updated." He seemed intent on hurrying this interaction through, despite his demeanor.

“Where... are my glasses...?"

“Oh, we fixed your eyes while you were thawing out. Your vision should be fine from now on, you don't need those clunky old things anymore."

That was amazing news. Still, the patient wobbled his head, trying to understand his surroundings. Why was he frozen? Why is all of this happening? And when would the brain fog clear up? It seemed like there was no time for that. The door to the room opened up, and someone walked in, clad in the same lab coat the doctor wore. It looked like a woman, but had a gravely voice, like a heavy smoker, coming out from behind her mask. “Is the meat thawed out yet?"

“As good a time as any, I suppose. Take it to processing. Bye bye, iceperson!"

The doctor and, what would presumably be the orderly, helped their patient into some sort of grey one-piece bodysuit, with matching shoes, sat him in a wheelchair and brought him into the hall, then another, and another. The hospital was surprisingly dark and unkempt, the walls stained with rust, and the floor slightly dusty. Finally, he was stopped at a desk, with a drone-like worker behind it wearing the same grey jumpsuit and mask as anyone else, and left to be tended to by this next stranger. There were a few keystrokes on a gaudy yellow keyboard, and then he was finally spoken to.

“Name?" The man behind the desk asked quickly.

“What?"

“What's your name?" A slight lisp came out from behind his grey mask.

“Erik... Erik Barnes."

The man looked him up and down quickly. “Are you sure?"

Erik had to think about it for a moment. Did he really ask that? “That's... dumb. Yes I'm sure."

The man frowned slightly at the notion of his question being dumb, only barely seen behind the mask. “Gender?"

Erik shook his head. “Look, I don't even know where I am right now, I don't want to answer all of these questions."

“You're in Cryonexus 5, I'm going to release you, once you answer my questions. Gender?"

Erik looked at himself. Another stupid question. “Man."

“Are you sure?"

Erik was already irritated by this. “Stop asking that, yes."

The desk jockey groaned and threw a small temper tantrum. “Fine! I guess I'll just answer most of this for you then, Mister Cookie Cutter, gosh!" He began typing on his keyboard, filling in details he needed to. He stood up briefly to scan the chip and then sat back down. “There, all done, your life details are all recorded on your chip. You're assigned to 24932, let them deal with you. Guard!"

As a guard led Erik out of the room, finally under his own power, he was led to a small room, with a seat in some kind of rollercoaster car. Apparently he was going for a ride.

“Where am I going?" No answer. The guard simply sat him in the seat, locked him in place, and set the car on its way. He muttered to himself as it began to bump down the track. “Great... stuck on some creepy local fair ride. Maybe there's a low-hanging sign I can brain myself on."

Lights began to come on as the ride slowly crawled down a spiral corridor. A screen on the wall followed the car as whimsical music began to play.

“Welcome, brave citizen, to the world of tomorrow!" A cheap, male announcer voice filled the air over the sound of the cart bumping on its rails. “You might be confused and wondering what happened. That's not uncommon. Well, you are about to find out for yourself! Don't worry what year it was, know what year it is! This is 2080, but we like to call it, New Times 50!"

“T-that long...?"

The video continued without his interaction, a corny cartoon showed the world he once knew, but in a completely different way. “In the dark ages, man fought over land and food, killed the people he couldn't understand, and polluted the world around him to such terrible degrees that ancient ice was melting away. That's why the smartest and wealthiest people of Earth banded together to form the Wildlands Project! A way to ensure that there would always be room for nature to thrive!"

The name was familiar. “That thing?" It was one of those conspiracy theories that kept coming true. Looks like another one got added to the tally.

“Terrorists tried to ruin the project and declared war on nature, but the brave leaders of Earth wouldn't let their evil deeds go unpunished. The Earth leadership vanquished everyone who attempted to violate nature, and in 2030, the war was over. Nature and science won! The New Times could begin!"

The explanation was just awful. “Oh shit! They killed the people outside the cities?!"

“Now, humans populate just one percent of the Earth, while untamed wilderness lies beyond the walls, keeping Earth happy and healthy! Now, all of the human working, living, and even eating habits are responsible, and eco-friendly. And now you will have the great opportunity to make responsible and eco-friendly life even more possible!"

Erik groaned. “Why won't this end? How the hell long is this?"

The screen flashed with an explosion effect and the caption 'science it up!'. “It's like magic! With advanced cloning techniques, scientists are now able to replicate the proteins that we know and love, like a juicy McGrubble, or the classic, air-fried McCricket! And of course, all of your favorite toppings!"

A squalid man in the same old grey jumpsuit appeared on screen with a horrific looking burger, and held a handful of packs of an unidentified sauce. “Wow! Three for free!"

Erik winced, looking around. “Is there a spike around here I can impale myself on?"

The ride finally appeared to be coming to an end. “Now, to you, brave citizen! You have been selected for your great health and physical fitness by -GLOBO FOOD CORP-", the voiceover was a different voice for the company name, “to help save the human race! Food is the greatest resource we have, and you will ensure that it gets to where its going, fresh and fast!"

“I'm doing what? Like a delivery boy?"

“You're going to do just fine. Go out and make every day special! And remember: nature is sacred!"

“I don't want to! I want to drink bleach!" He shouted at the screen. If he had something to throw at it, he would have already. He considered a shoe, but decided against it.

The ride finally ended, and he was taken out of the cart, and onto mechanized ramp, that led up to an airplane. That ride took him all the way down from a tower, the one he was frozen in, right onto the tarmac. The guards that took him answered no questions, and didn't seem to care one way or the other how Erik felt. As he bumped around on this future plane, and noticed the heavy smoke that, ironically, poured out of the engines, he had a lot of time to think to himself.

“2080... it was 2025 when I got put under, right? I got taken when... when I stepped out for groceries, that's right. The Wildlands... right, the government was trying to set that thing up, they were forbidding people from leaving the big cities. Trying to get people to leave their homes and go there instead. What was the point of it... nitrogen something... ugh, I don't remember..." He winced, trying to wrack his mind. He had so much going on, he was feeling exhausted already.

Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, Erik had arrived at a city, and a stark contrast compared to the world around it. A giant grey patch surrounded by wilderness, and all around it, large walls made of four stripes of some sort of blue light. The city itself appeared extremely generic, buildings made of light grey modules, all nearly identical and nondescript. The people he saw as he was guided through the airport were all shaven and dressed in the same grey jumpsuit, grey mask and grey shoes that he wore. It looked like some sort of drone facility. He came to the arrivals desk, and it finally seemed as if his life were about to truly begin. Another clean-shaven drone behind the counter greeted him.

“Good morning, citizen. Your chip please?" A feminine voice to listen to, finally.

Erik held out his arm and had his wound scanned with a beep. She looked at it briefly. “Welcome to City 24932, Mister Cishet Whitedevil."

Erik did a doubletake. “What?"

“That's your name, sir."

“What? No, I'm Erik Barnes."

“But it says right here..." She turned his screen to him for a moment. Sure enough, his name was not properly recorded.

He groaned. “The guy behind the desk at Cryonexus 5 or whatever must have done that prank... can you just fix that?"

She shook her head. “I am sorry, Mister Whitedevil, but a name can only be changed by the will of the Emperors. It requires very special permission."

He clenched a fist and grit his teeth, knowing he was going to forever be known as Cishet Whitedevil. “That bastard!"

There was a sudden beep, and then a robotic female voice came from his arm. Expletive detected. Social credit deducted.

“What was that?!"

“Sir, please, you must remain on good behavior. Now, you have been assigned to the Food Facility in sector 8. They will give you employment and lodgings after your shift." She produced a recycled paper map, the characters all garbled and odd-looking. “Please follow this map to your place of employment."

Erik looked at it with a furrowed brow. “How am I supposed to make heads or tails of this? This isn't in English, or... anything."

“Sir, this is Common Core English, it's globally used. We are here in the middle. Head east three blocks, then north seven. That is sector 8's Food Facility."

He begrudgingly took the map and found his way out of the building. As he walked, following the map as best he could, he thought about the situation he'd suddenly found himself in. What a horrible future this was turning out to be. The future was supposed to be flying cars, robot suits, and laser burritos. Instead, it was somehow both dank and sterile, a sprawling city made of stark building blocks, completely devoid of culture, staffed by drones made of meat, with no care for anything beyond what they're supposed to do. Except that one guy that pranked him. At this moment, he actually felt a brief fondness for him having a personality, as lame as it was. It was the only one he had found.

Eventually, he had wandered down to the building he thought she had said was his new workplace. A five-storey building right on the edge of the city, next to the glowing blue walls. He opened the door, and walked in. A small lobby awaited him, stark white as always, with only a small reception window and a single door, guarded by a security lockout. A man stood by the door, waiting, and perked up once he realized Erik looked lost.

“You the new employee?" He asked, approaching quickly.

“I think so, I just got to the city. Erik Barnes." Still confused and irritated, he held out his hand for a shake.

The man simply looked at the hand with confusion, and then awkwardly bumped it with his elbow. He quickly scanned Erik's chip area. “Barnes, huh? Nice try, Mister Whitedevil. Ready to work now, or are you the jester I didn't order?"

“Like I said, I just got to the city... I would really like to rest or somet-"

The man waved it off quickly. “No time for that. Your shift will be starting in a few minutes. Let's get to your workstation."

They began walking, through the heavy door into the facility, and to some stairs. Erik tried to talk on the way.

“What happened to the guy I'm replacing?"

“Died. Unprocessed chitin. That's why I splurged and ordered you, you're fit and healthy, real old stock human."

Unprocessed chitin? Old stock human? What an awful thought.

The two walked through the facility, made of cubicles, each facing a couple of belt systems. He was shown to an empty one.

“Alright, Mister Whitedevil, your job is simple, but essential. Take a box from the top feed..." he took a small, cardboard box from the belt, about the size of a tissue box, “add a scoop of the brown stuff, and a scoop of the white stuff..." he did just that with a cheap metal scoop, “and then deposit the filled box down here." He finally dropped the box down a small slot, just big enough to fit the box and nothing more, under the other belts. “Keep doing it until the system lets you know you can return home." He tapped a screen embedded in the wall, which currently showed motivational posters.

“That's it?"

“That's it."

“What even is this stuff?"

“Ground bugs and soy, of course. All the protein any citizen could hope to need." He explained simply.

It sounded repulsive. “That's fucked!"

Another beep. Expletive detected. Social credit deducted. “Whoa, now! Watch your attitude, Mister Whitedevil. Your social credit is your standing in the world, it's like money, and you will be trading good interactions for food and services. If you run out, you're broke."

“Swear and lose your livelihood? That's retarded!"

Ableism detected. Social credit deducted. An alarm sounded, lighting up the console in his cubicle. Attention citizen. Your score is at zero. Please wait for the Judicial Screening Bot to pass judgment.

The man shook his head and backed off. “I don't want to deal with this! I'm getting a better drone next time! You're on your own, Whitedevil!" He quickly turned and fled down the hall.

“How the hell could the world have gone so wrong?" Erik muttered to himself, as a square robot the size of a small garbage can rolled into the booth.

Halt citizen. Judicial screening underway. The top flipped open and a piston engaged, drawing a scanning device up, and then back down his body, before implanting itself back inside the machine. Identity Why-tedevil Kisshet... It couldn't even properly pronounce what was entered into his ID chip. Judgment passed. Toxic masculinity detected. Outcome punitive. Hold for Judicial Castrator Bot.

“Oh, fuck this!" Erik spat, quickly kicking the robot over, and making a break for it.

As he ran and alarm bells went off, his arm continued to yammer to him. Violence detected. Social credit deducted. The getaway turned into a chase, as a couple of armed guards with a commanding officer stormed down the hallway after him. “Stop him!"

“Oh shit!" Expletive detected. Social credit deducted. “Shut up!"

It was hard to run in this stupid jumpsuit, and even worse with a mask on. He quickly tore it off and threw it down on the carpeted floor as he continued his getaway. Cubicle after cubicle passed, thankfully neither the guards nor the workers had taken any kind of attack against him. A stairwell appeared to him on the right. “Stairs! Maybe I can go up..." Up the stairs he ran, two at a time, the guards barely able to keep up. The building was quite tall at five storeys, but it did seem to have a roof. Erik kicked open the door to the roof, then looked around frantically for something, anything he could use in his favor. The roof was devoid of anything but the door and the edge. Off the edge, other buildings were a bit too far away, but the wall of the city was right next to the building. Right on the other side of the fence, a large pond sat, still and murky. “Maybe I can make that jump? Maybe? Are those lasers or lights?"

The door behind him suddenly burst open.

“We've got you now, citizen! You are due to be castrated!" The lead goon shouted. “Do not fear, the process is safe and effective!"

Erik turned and made a run for the edge. This was it. If he didn't do it this perfectly, he was going to get fried by a laser, hit the ground and get crushed, or get gelded by military goons. He bounded up to the edge for the final spring off into the unknown.

“He's committing another crime!" The leader announced, looking to two other guards.

The guard spoke purely in Hindi, and it would seem, did not actually understand his orders.

The other one spoke in Swahili. “Nini?"

“What?! Shoot him!" He pointed specifically with his finger to Erik, making his jump.

The Hindi guard spoke again, then raised his gun and fired a bright blue bolt of light, but missed. It was too late.

Erik sailed off the edge, towards the ominous blue wall of light. He had never jumped that hard in his life, his legs were already hurting, but he could only concentrate on this slow-motion feeling jump. He was not going to clear the wall, but land right on top of it if he were lucky. He managed to hit the blue light with his arm, and it miraculously provided enough support to push off from. He rolled himself over the wall, onto the other side, with only a minor injury to his arm. As he fell towards the water, he thought to himself, “These people are so dumb and savage, but they have hardlight walls and laser rifles. How bizarre."

Splat.

He hit the water right on his back and sank into the murky water quickly, but he sputtered and pushed himself to the surface. His back stung from the flop he did, but there were more pressing matters. “Ha! I did it!" He cheered, out of breath, as he made for the edge of the pond. His arm chimed in as well. Unauthorized interaction with nature detected. Social credit deducted.

The guards, now standing at the edge of the building, still wanted to get him.

“Najaribu." The other guard said, raising his gun towards Erik and his freedom. As he pulled the trigger, it snapped clean off, without firing a shot. “Hii imelaaniwa."

The lead was furious. “You fools! You let him escape! Nobody has escaped the city! We're all getting docked for this!" The Hindu guard spoke once more, motioning to Erik, but could still not be understood. "And why haven't you two been translated yet?!" Racism detected. Social credit deducted. “Gah, drat!"

This was it. Erik was free from the city for now. But he was now a fugitive in an unfamiliar world from when he last saw it. He continued to run, making for the nearby treeline, as he spoke to himself. “This chip can't stay... it's gonna track me..."

In a few minutes, he was safely concealed inside the forest. Thankfully, it looked like any other normal forest he was used to. It seemed they didn't touch them at all.

You are in violation of the Wildlands Protocol. Prepare for extermination.

“God, what an awful fucking thing. But I gotta get rid of it..." He panted, reaching for a small stick. This was going to be bad. He just knew it. He put the stick on the ground, pointing up, and placed his arm over it, right next to the chip. Making a fist with his right hand, he positioned it over his arm, taking a deep breath. Hesitation. Another breath, his head pulling back a bit more. Again. Turning his head away. Quickly, before he could regret it, he bashed his fist down onto his arm, ramming the stick into his arm.

It was an even worse pain than putting the chip in. The sharp impact, the searing burning of nerves, the tearing flesh. He had never screamed so horribly in his life. “AHHHH! NNNGGHHH! FFFUUUCK NRRRRRGH!" His whole body shook in shock as he tried to move his arm over, and pry the stick back. It worked, thankfully, popping out the chip onto the ground and breaking the stick in half at the same time, in a bloody blob of carnage.

Tampering detected. Social credit deducted. Prepare for extermination.

He staggered about, holding his arm, groaning, whimpering and gasping, as he tried to get away from the area where he had injured himself. Finding bunches of leaves to try to cover the wound with, he continued to run off further into the bush. It was probably a bad idea, but he did it anyway.

He had been running for hours now. Or at least jogging. Shambling, at least. The pain in his arm was immense, he was starving, dehydrated, and basically ready to collapse, only held upright by adrenaline. He finally stopped at a big rock and leaned up against it.

“Maybe... I should have.... eaten... the bugs..." He panted, and finally slumped down. Maybe he'd survive, get a second wind, but after he got some rest, at least. He huffed heavily a couple of times, and stayed silent, hearing nothing in the area. Not even any birds. It was like they had all left, and he was all alone in the world, for but a brief moment. Then there came a thumping. Very faint, but growing nearer. “Oh... they tracked me... of course they did..."

The sound grew nearer, and nearer still, but he was simply too exhausted to do anything but lie on the ground and hope it passed. The sound reached its deafening apex finally, then stopped, as a large monster stomped the ground right in front of him, with a smaller, fluffier creature jumping off and sliding in front of that, poised and ready to strike. In confused terror, he could do nothing else but shout, there was no time to analyze the dramatic landing. Before him stood a short person, perhaps only five feet, who seemed to be part woman, and part red squirrel. Her ears were covered with a funny knitted hat to deafen the sound of thumping, had a belt pouch for carrying things, and she held a tribal-looking spear of sharpened stone towards Erik, never wavering. Directly behind her, a seven foot fridge of a man, who appeared to be part giant stag beetle. He carried nothing, as the giant mandibles on his face were all he could ever need. Both of them wore ragged clothes, despite having fur and chitin. At least they looked somewhat civilized.

“Human scum! You know the rules, these are our Wildlands! Surrender or die!" The squirrel girl shouted in a high-pitched voice at him. She was prepared to strike at any moment.

Erik flailed, his muscles too weak to do anything properly. “I... surrender. I am weak... starving..."

The beetle-man spoke up finally, his voice alarmingly deep and booming. “You're injured."

“Wounded! Yes, right in the arm! You are our prisoner, now, stupid human!" She proclaimed. There was no reply or followup to the statement, just silence, and a light whimper of regular pain from Erik. No resistance, no care. She looked at him again, lowering her spear. “You are actually dying, aren't you?"

“P-probably..."

The squirrel looked back to the beetle, who spoke again. “He doesn't seem like the others. His talking arm is wounded, he's weak, unarmed, lost."

“Should we take him back, or finish him off?"

“He can't escape or fight. Perhaps we'll get in trouble for this, but I can carry him back."

“Yes, fine. It's a long walk." She sighed and approached Erik, unbuckling a ratty leather pouch she wore around her waist, and retrieving an apple, red and slightly pock-marked. “Here, human. Eat up while you can." She handed it over to him boldly. She clearly did not fear him.

He took the apple with what strength he had and began to munch on it, still laying down. “Why... where...?"

“We will take you back to our village. We can figure out what to do with you from there."

The beetle scooped him up in his mandibles, not holding him too tightly, as the squirrel hopped up onto his back, riding on him like a great mount. Erik was so out of it, he could only concentrate on the apple. It didn't matter that a squirrel-girl and a giant beetle-man were taking him back to their village for an unknown reason. There was only food. The squirrel thrust her arm in the air energetically. “Let's ride! To Goldenmere!"