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Walking Into The Light Chapter One: The Birth of A Soul And The Discovery of A Life Time * * * Disclaimer: While this story is posted in a yiffy story archive, this chapter of the story does not contain any yiff scenes. It does however contain a good bit of violence and pretty much no sexuality what so ever. If that is fine with you, go ahead and read on, if not. May I suggest some of the works by the author ItTastesLikeGreen. This is a very well accomplished author and I have read all of their works thus far and have yet to be lt down by any of them. Thank you all and enjoy the story. Oh and thank you to ItTastesLikeGreen. Your stories motivated me to do this. Brief Overview: A human with a tormented past and a painful present life struggles with living in a world where furries are common place. In time a new business acquaintance opens his mind to a road to recovery and possibly even salvation from his own self destructive methods. However, what he finds will change him forever. * * * Distant lightening lit up the night sky, the thunder storm had been approaching fast and bringing with it a torrent of rain and wind. Another bolt of lightning escaped the heavens, lighting up a dark alley way. The elongated shadow of a fox enshrouded the small form of a female human, huddled against the back of the alley, a child in her arms. The fox's eyes seemed to glow with a fluorescence of their very own as he raised a loaded pistol from his side. The all too familiar sound of a round being chambered seemed to fill the alley far more than any burst of thunder ever could, followed by the pitiful scream of a woman as she tried to shield her child, an act that was done in vain. Thunder roared across the city as the child fell limp from her arms, blood pooling around his little body. Leaving nothing more than the little for a child with messed black hair wearing a yellow rain coat and red boots now soaked in blood. The mother's wails of utter horror and sadness echoed off the walls as the animal smiled, its fangs gleaming in a flash of lightening as it approached the woman, loosening his belt as he moved.

• * * "AAAGGGHHHHH!!!" Breath came in short heaving gasps for the silhouette of what sounded like a male in a completely dark room. Shadows raced across the walls as a car's headlights passed by outside the window. Aside from that, the only light that made it into the room was the light of the moon. The sound of his breathing still filled the space, now beginning to slow down as the distinct sounds of little objects being rattled around and knocked over took its place as he fumbled with the lamp next to his bed. With a click the room was flooded by the dim glow of a soft reading lamp. The room was plain enough, just a white walled one bed lightly furnished room, as if put together by the county prison. It consisted of a bed, a bedside night stand, a lamp, a ceiling fan a door and a window. The carpet was worn out and covered in stains and the room smelled of ten different kinds of air freshener, trying with futility to mask the smell of what could only be imagined as a dead hooker. The male now sat up in bed, his legs and waist covered by a white sheet as his hands held his face. He was silent now, while his shouldered heaved up and down slightly as he quietly sobbed. A face streaked by tears and knuckles white with strain as the tear trails turn to tiny rivulets of blood as his finger nails dug into his face. Throwing his hands down to his knees he yelled out, not in pain but in anger and sadness. Two feelings that had been held up inside his soul for the last eighteen years. Slowly he opened his eyes, hazel orbs gazing at an empty room, he muttered a few curse words as he reached under his pillow and pulled out his wallet. He had learned three things in his life. One, Anthros were the very incarnation of all that was evil in the world. Two, Never leave your wallet in plain sight when sleeping with a whore, and three, whores don't just take money, they take everything, food, jewelry, and most importantly any over the counter pain meds that you may have left out on your night stand. Looking down at the floor he growled as he grabbed the alarm clock and threw it at the door, the room resonating with the sound of it breaking into dozens of pieces. He was now able to add one more thing to his list. Four, whores will also steal your clothes if they get the chance. Point in case, never trust a hooker, especially if she says she'll blow you for free. * * * Everyone....this is Cale, and this is his life. If you have ever seen a homeless person and said : "Wow, their life must really suck." Then you have seen Cale's life. Every year is worse than the last. When he was seven his foster family was robbed by anthros, and they had to give him up because they could no longer care for him. When he was eight, his drunken foster mother attempted to express her anger at a driver in front of her by rear ending his 2003 silver corvette. An action that sent her car spinning into the oncoming traffic and getting her t-boned by a 1993 ford f-150. And for anyone that knows anything about trucks, they know that there is no such thing in the world as a car that can stand up to an older model ford. So, here is a little math for you all. Old ass ford plus old as car in the old ass ford's way equals seriously fucked up wreckage that was once considered above stated old ass car. His foster mother walked away perfectly fine while he was left in the car with two broken legs. When he was ten he found out his first love was cheating on him with an anthro. This is when Cale learned what juvie was. And so, after three stitches one lawsuit on behalf of one Tony Harmon since afore mentioned Tony was preoccupied with the healing of every known bone in the anthro body to make it to court and four years in a juvenile detention center in Hartford County Kentucky. Cale was once again a free boy and back in a foster home....again. His life continued in this manner, spending more time in juvenile hall than in a foster home, and even less time with a foster family. Until finally he turned twenty one, when he learned the beauty of alcohol and that as long as you consumed enough of it at one time, you would be able to forget that your life sucked as bad as it did. As you can see, Cale is the prime example of the American standard....of what you should never become. However, as we all know, life can't be bad for ever, at one point you hit rock bottom and the only place you can go is up from there. "The bitch took my watch too!?" Unfortunately for Cale, when he hit rock bottom, the previous occupant had left a shovel for him to just dig deeper. But little did he, or anyone one else for that matter, know that his life was about to change in ways that he could never imagine. * * * Furs and humans alike populated the busy streets of Orlando Florida, it being so close to Spring Break, everyone everywhere was getting ready for something. Shops were double stocking everything they had, guys were getting in shape for all the lovely female tourists that would be coming soon. Even the homeless people were getting their acts in order to bring in a few more bucks. Even Cale was hit by the sudden rush to join society, the only issue is that, for a man who spends more time smoking pot than selling it, there is little time between lighting up a bowl and finding something to eat, to get off your ass and actually sell it to someone for a change. A large male came around the corner, his unkempt and shaggy hair only adding to his look of homelessness. "Hey...Cale, man, you got any bud left?" He said, his voice raspy as he coughed a couple times. "Dude, I just need something to take the edge off man, you know how I get around spring time, damn allergies." Currently Cale leaned back against a door leading to one of the city's more popular night clubs. It being so early in the day the door was locked. His very appearance screamed, ‘I fucking hate life'. Wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that were ripped up the left side. "200 bucks..." The man arched an eye brow. "But...why so high man...hey, you look different, did you do something with your hair?" "Jerry....I'm fucking naked you moron." "Ohhh...well, it looks good on you." Cale slapped his head as he held his hand out and waited for the more than likely mentally retarded man to drop the money in it. This is how most of his days went, well, minus the lack of clothing. The bums came in the morning. He didn't care where they got their money from, as long as it went to him. During the afternoons Ricky the local stoner cop would hang out with him and give him the inside info about the city, you could always count on a crooked cop with a taste for the green to be your best friend. After that the evenings were filled with selling bud to the local teens and whores for quickies in the back alley. * * * The stars began to blur slightly as the world started spinning. Cale exhaled in a cloud of smoke as things returned to normal. It was always a bad sign that you were so high you forgot you had to breathe. He chuckled as he looked at one of the bricks in the alley way, moving his head from side to side as he listened to it sing to him. The beauty of Cale's business was that he was a grower and a dealer. That meant that he made his own product so he never had to pay anyone for it, he just had to pay the local junkie down the corner for the LSD that he laced his weed with. Laughter echoed down the alley way and that caught Cale's attention, for a moment he thought his voice had ran away and he would have to chase after it. The sight of four anthros turning down the alley way brought him back to his senses though. If there was one thing that anyone could tell you about Cale, it was that he hated Anthros, he hated them so much that he could be so blitzed you could swear you were getting high just by looking at him; and he would return to normal just by seeing or even hearing an anthro. "Hey, this is the place." A Doberman said looking over at a grey rabbit. "Yeah?" The rabbit said, sticking his paws in the pockets of his black hoodie. "Hey man...we hear you got some bud." Said another Doberman, his baggy trip pants swaying back and forth, weighted down with dangling chains, a hot topic child obviously. Cale looked at them as he inconspicuously moved his stash of money behind him. "Nope....aint got shit." He said, leaning back against a stack of card board boxes. "C'mon guy, everyone knows you got weed. Just give us some." The first Doberman said. "What are you deaf? I aint got shit, I don't even have fuckin' clothes. How the hell am I supposed to afford the green when I don't have any green to begin with?" Cale said, anger apparent in his voice. "C'mon guys, give the guy a break, it's obvious he isn't too happy to see us here." The rabbit said, smiling as he began to reach behind him."Yeah, I'll give him a break, I'll break every god damned bone in his body." The second Doberman said as he picked up a brick from the ground, about the same time, the rabbit pulled out a pistol. It was too dark to see exactly what it was, but judging from his appearance, it was probably just a berretta which meant that Cale would be laying face down in his own blood for a few hours before he actually died. Images of that fateful night flashed through his mind, the very picture of the fox standing there with the gun in his hands, now personified by a rabbit. "I fucking hate Anthros...." Cale muttered as he watched them. "What was that shit head!?" The first Doberman barked as he raised his fist. "I said I fucking hate Anthros!" Cale yelled as he walked forward, fists clenched. His body tensed as the world around him faded to nothing. Only himself and the rabbit existed. The street lights cast a ghostly luminescence over his form accentuating the scar just above the left side of his chest. It was as if time slowed down as he watched the rabbit's finger begin to squeeze the trigger; and in a flash Cale had leapt forward, plowing his shoulder into the rabbit's waist as the gun shot ricocheted off into the night. Rage flowed through his veins as his fist came down on the rabbit's forehead, a sickening cracking and popping sound resounded from the impact. No sooner had Cale dealt his blow than had he began rolling to the left. A Doberman slamming a brick down onto the chest of the rabbit and instantly recoiling as Cale's foot connected with the canine's stomach. The human was on his feet and shoulder checking the other Doberman into the wall in a split second. The Doberman yelped in pain, a sound quickly cut off as Cale's fist drove straight into the dog's stomach. An attack followed by a quick turn and kick with the heel of his foot to the skull of the other Doberman rising up from the ground. It was at this time that Ryan, the owner of the night club came rushing out through the door to the alley. The sight of three furs, a gun laying in the middle of the alleyway and Cale standing in just his boxers greeted his eyes. "What the fuck?!" yelled Ryan as he rushed over to Cale. Ryan was an average man of average build. Known for his love of the Band AC/DC and having every last one of their band tees. Which he always wore along with a pair of long torn up jean shorts. "Dude, are you ok?" He asked as he looked over Cale, eventually turning his gaze to the fallen foes. Rubbing his shoulder Cale nodded. "Yeah, I'm ok man. They came at me with a gun and...I don't know, I just sort of blacked out." "Well shit dude, I'd hate to see you kick ass when your wide awake. You really messed these guys up." He said looking over the anthros, beginning to wonder if the one rabbit in the middle was even alive, but after a heaving cough from the creature, he put his worries aside. "Dude....Can I get you something, a drink or anything?" Ryan asked looking back to Cale. "Yeah...I'm dying of thirst out here, I'll just take a Dr. Pepper." Cale said, the thought of a cold glass of Dr. Pepper was better than any amount of money in the world. To Cale, the beverage was like the nectar of the gods. He smiled at the thought of the drink as the night club's owner walked away. Lights flashed to the beat of a popular song by some hip hop artist. The club was packed with people and for good reason. Besides the fact it was the cleanest club around it was known for great drinks, great music and even better women. Every server and bartender there was a female and built like a super model. "Hey Ryan, everything all right out there?" One of the patron's asked. His tall broad shouldered figure huddled over a glass of patrone. He was a collie, his white and rust red fur mostly covered by a black t-shirt that was tucked into a pair of blue jeans. His hand holding the glass sported a studded wrist band and a single gold ring on his fourth finger. "Yeah...yeah, it's all good. Just some kids causing trouble." Ryan dismissed the fur's worry with a wave of his hand as he left the bar. A glass of Dr. Pepper in hand. The back door to the alley way opened as Ryan walked out. Cale stood up, pulling the hood of the black hoodie over his head. Now dressed in a black Anarchist's Alliance Hoodie and a Three Days Grace t-shirt. The chains on the black trip pants jingled slightly as he turned around, the random rows of spikes glistening in the dim lighting. A crunch filled the area of the alleyway followed by a groan as he stepped on the paw of a Doberman with a pair of mid-shin high black combat boots with his pant legs tucked into them military style. Made of black leather in the form of belt straps and buckles. The toes and heels encased by metal plating. "Fuck their couch." Cale muttered as he walked away, grabbing the glass with a hand sporting a black frayed fingerless glove. The look on Ryan's face was more bemused than worried now as he looked over Cale. "You clean up nice, kid." He said as he nodded to Cale. "Yeah, you know, I try to go with what I got-" His sentence was cut short as he watched a Collie wearing a black t-shirt walk out through the door Ryan had just come from. The look in Cale's eyes prompted Ryan to turn around. "Aw crap..." spoke Ryan as he looked at the fur. No sooner had he said this than was Cale rushing to the door, fist cocked back ready to pound the anthro's muzzle in. Lucky for the canine Ryan was a lot stronger than he seemed. He held Cale back trying to calm him down. "Terry get outa here. Cale gets really pissed off around Furs." Ryan shouted as he struggled to hold Cale back. But before the collie could move Cale had broken free of the man's grasp and was already upon the fur. Not even a second before Cale was face to face with the anthro, Terry slammed the door shut. A loud thud coming from the other side followed by another thud as a body fell to the ground. The door opened back up as Terry gave a sly grin while he looked down at Cale who was currently laying on the street of the alleyway rubbing his forehead, grimacing in pain. Terry looked from Cale to the three furs also on the ground and nodded. "You've must have some skill kid...either that or they were really drunk." Terry said as he moved his sights back to Cale. "No, Cale's a real fighter. I've seen him punch in a car door before, he's like Chuck Norris on steroids." Ryan interjected as he looked down at Cale. "Really?" Terry asked. Moving forwards he pulled his top off over his muzzle and tossed it inside the doorway. "Alright, let's see this ‘Chuck Norris'." He replied with a smirk. Ryan tried to put a quick end to the gesture before things got out of hand. However Cale was already on his feet and plowing his shoulder into the collie's chest, sending him flying into the wall. As Cale rushed the fur he was knocked back by a swift kick to the face. Terry was well built and well skilled in the Asian arts of self defense. He moved with as much speed and grace as a feline but with all the force of a charging rhino. Cale on the other hand was a tank. 6' 5'' 236 pounds and built like a battle ship. His black hair and hazel eyes only accented his pale white skin, marred only by a fiendish bullet shot scar above the left side of his chest. His moves were fast, but sluggish compared to Terry's. However they packed enough power to cave in his skull in a single blow. The two exchanged blows, Terry doing most of the dodging while Cale just took the hits head on without so much as a flinch. Terry spun around and kicked, his foot landing upside Cale's head, the blow knocking him to the side but not before he had a chance to grab the collie's leg. In seconds the collie went from a grapple to being tossed ten feet into a brick wall and then to being pummeled by a severely pissed off human. * * * The sound of a steady beeping followed by silence. It was the only sound that broke the monotony in the sterile white hospital room. Terry slowly opened his eyes as he groaned and looked over to see Ryan standing above him and Cale standing off in a corner, arms crossed and looking only moderately pissed off. "W-where am I?" Terry asked as he focused his eye sight back to Ryan. "Uh...you're in the hospital, you've been here for three days. I don't want you to freak out about this, but two of those days were spent in a coma." Ryan said with a slightly worried look on his face. His hand resting on Terry's shoulder. Terry thought about this for a moment, finally his lips curling up in a smile as he chuckled, not without some pain due to a few broken ribs. "Well....it seems I misjudged you Cale, you really are like Chuck Norris on steroids. There aren't too many people that can take one of my round house kicks and keep fighting, and I don't know any that can take one and go on to beat me into a comma." His voice was calm, though filled with a warmth. It had always been one of his best features how easily he could forgive someone. "Don't get all buddy buddy with me flea bag. I'm only here to say I'm sorry; and the only reason I am even doing that is because Ryan promised me a life time supply of Dr. Pepper.....So, I'm, uh....I'm s-sor-sorry....you piece of shit!" Cale screamed out the last part as he rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. "I'm sorry Terry, you'll have to bare with Cale. He lost his mother and nearly his own life to a mugger who happened to be a furry when he was only six. His life hasn't been too good to him since, especially when dealing with furs. To him, telling an Anthro he is sorry is like bathing his head in a vat of battery acid. Terry thought about this for a moment before looking over to Ryan. "I want him to work for me." * * * It had been two weeks since Cale had last said those horrible words to Terry and he was still trying to get the foul taste of telling a fur he was sorry out of his mouth. His life had pretty much returned to normal other than that though. All except for the feeling that something was coming, something big, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But it was like destiny was staring him right in his face, just waiting for him to make his move. Cale fingered through the random bills, twenties and hundreds a couple fifties here and there. His business had picked up vastly over spring break, especially since he stopped smoking his own product. He hadn't had any more trouble since that night and now was able to actually afford clothes as well as getting close to buying a place to live. Things were actually going good for a change. That was...until Terry walked into the Alleyway. "The fuck do you want?" Cale asked, his voice filled with spite and anger. "Calm down Cale, I'm only here to talk." He said, raising his arms in an act of peace. "I don't talk to anthros, get lost." Cale replied, shoving his money into the pocket of his new hoodie before turning around only to realize that there were still five hours left before the club opened. ‘Great....' He thought to himself. "Oh, but I think you will be quite interested in what I have to say." Spoke the collie. "Alright...how about this Terry, you have five seconds to either grab my interest or run, either way, if your still here and I'm still uninterested, I'm going to kick your ass into another coma." Terry visibly gulped in worry at this as he contemplated just how fast he could run. Taking a breath he steeled himself as he spoke up. "Alright, what if I told you that you could make ten thousand dollars....in one night, two nights a week." Terry said this with a smile on his face.Cale paused, arching an eye brow as he crossed his arms. "Go on...." "Think about it, what would you do with twenty thousand dollars every week. You could buy a new car every week. You could live at the play boy mansion, you could have every last hooker in this city give you a knob job before the end of the week, and all you have to do is one easy thing." Terry spoke with the skill of a well versed politician. Catching his attention was easy, keeping it was going to be the real challenge. "Ok...so Terry, who do you want me to kill." Cale said dropping his arms. It was a mixture of feelings that flooded Terry at the moment, the first and foremost was fear that more than likely Cale had actually killed someone for money before, the second was the surprise that already Cale was willing to take a job from him. Perhaps this wouldn't be as hard as Terry had made it out to be. "Don't worry, there won't be any need for killing, all you need to do is what you do best. Kicking some serious ass. The hardest part..." ‘Here it goes.' He thought to himself. "Is that you will be doing it for me." Terry watched and waited as Cale stared back at him. His face a mixture of questioning and disbelief. "You mean you want me to beat the crap out of people...for you...like, a body guard or something...you want me to protect, you. Have you fucking forgot that I hate you!?" Cale asked, his voice rising in anger from the disbelief of how much gal this fur had to ask him for anything. "Now, I know you don't like me, but, it isn't like that. I want you to fight for me as my top fighter. Have you ever heard of underground fighting. It isn't the most glorious of careers but it is perfect for you. You will get to do what you love and best of all, you will be able to beat the living crap out of as many furs as you can possibly imagine." Terry threw the last part in with hopes of really sinking the deal for Cale, and it seemed to be working. Cale was legitimately thinking about the offer. He sat back on a box as he fiddled with one of the chains on his pants. "So...your saying, that I can kick the crap out of as many furs as I want...and get paid for it?" Cale asked skeptically, dropping the chain. "Yes absolutely, as many as you want, and you'll get paid for each and every one." Terry smiled. This was going far better than he expected. "So, what's the catch. I know you aren't doing this because you enjoy seeing me pummeling your own kind. What are you getting out of this?" Cale crossed his arms once more. The idea of getting paid to beat up on dozens of furs was a great offer. However, it was too good to be true, there had to be something behind it. "Alright, you want the truth. I get a thirty percent cut of whatever you make and I get the respect of being the manager of a top fighter. Listen, you can pretty much say I'm a talent scout for fighting. And trust me when I say, there is barely anyone out there that can fight with as much raw power as you have Cale. With a little practice, you could refine your skills to make yourself an unstoppable force in the world of underground fighting. Hell, you could get noticed by a big time scout, you could even get picked up for a spot in UFC or some other pro fighting circuit and make millions. Cale, you have the potential to turn the fighting world upside down. All you have to do is accept my offer. Your new life can start right here if you want it to." Terry finished and reached his hand out to Cale, hoping he would accept his deal. This would be the biggest breakthrough in both their careers thus far. "....No." And with that Cale walked off down the alleyway, leaving an utterly shocked and stunned Terry behind him. Quickly Terry turned around. "What the fuck Cale, do you enjoy living in an alleyway, do you like this fucked up life!? I'm offering you the chance of a life time, movies are made about this stuff right here, this is your shot at something great and you are just going to turn it down!" Terry was more confused than angry, how could he possibly say no after things were going so well. "Who the fuck are you to ask me whether or not I like my fucked up life!?! My life is fucked up because your kind fucked it up for me! Every god damned part of my fucking life! All fucked up because of fur fags just like yourself. So how about you stay here and play hide and go fuck yourself." Cale kept walking eventually disappearing around a corner and out of sight. Leaving behind a collie filled with anger, but more so...pity. * * * Cale stared up into the sky, the stars were relatively bright tonight, aside from the lights of the city. His life had pretty much stopped completely since he had refused Terry's offer. People stopped buying, even hookers were turning him down now. He had been completely out of it for the last week and truthfully he had no clue what to do with himself. He wanted nothing more than to make something of himself, but if the only way to do it was to work beside a furry, he felt he would rather die. He was so torn apart at the moment. All common sense told him to work for Terry. However, his pride told him to forget about collie and move on. Laying there on the roof top of an abandoned apartment building, he felt that he was at the end of the road and he had to make a choice, it was either now or never. "Fuck...." He mumbled as he slowly got up and headed down the rooftop access stairs. * * * The night club had just opened up and people were already flooding in, the tables were filled by furs and people alike. A well endowed female rabbit was currently flaunting her assets in front of a certain collie. His eyes drinking up her lush and lithe form, as if being awoken from a trance. Terry jumped when Ryan placed his hand on his right shoulder. "Terry...you got a message." Ryan arched an eyebrow, it wasn't often that his patrons received mail in his club.Terry looked at the envelope and proceeded to unceremoniously open it. The contents read as thus: ‘Terry, you were right. I'm fucked up and I am the only one who can do anything about it. I'll work for you. But know one thing. I am trusting you, if you fuck me over, I'll be sure to tear out all your organs and take a shit in your empty corpse just so everyone can say you were filled with crap.' Terry put down the letter and smiled as he looked over to Ryan. "Ryan....Cale's about to change the world." He said as he held the letter in his hand, tapping it on the table. The rest of the night went fairly well. There was no sign of Cale in the alley out behind the club and had anyone actually found out where he really was they probably would have wondered if hell had frozen over. The issue was that Cale had spent most of his time that day in a library reading every single book he could find on the subject of fighting. He had come to find that there were three styles of ancient martial arts that worked in harmony with his abilities, and those were Shao-lin Lotus style, Japanese Jujitsu and God Fist style. When used together the three symbolized the epitome of unimaginable strength and endurance combined with grace and speedy attacks. He had practiced all day on varying moves he had learned from the books and the internet on those styles and was beginning to get a feel for it all. It wasn't until later that day that he had found out something that surprised him. He had learned that martial arts was not a tool for destroying others, but more so a tool to bring one's body and mind closer to god and nature. An attempt to reach perfect harmony with the entire universe. It was with this discovery that Cale made his first real step into a new life. He spent the next few days either in gyms or in libraries, meditating and practicing moves. He was starting to find a balance, the more he meditated and cleared his mind, the easier it was for him to fight without feeling like an overflowing dam on the verge of blacking out. His punches were more controlled, his kicks more direct and therefore more lethal. In the days that passed he worked and studied day in and day out to learn everything that he could to become more skilled and adept in the three arts he had chosen. It was in this act of self bettering that he began to notice a change. Slowly but surely as he felt his body transforming into a more devastating fighting machine, he noticed his mind changing too. No longer was he plagued by nightmares and horrible memories. He no longer felt the need to kill every furry he ran into. Now he could even sit next to one without flinching. "Pardon me sir have you seen-" One fur's sentence was quickly cut off as Cale threw a book at the mouse and stormed off. Well, he still had a ways to go, but he was getting there none the less. * * * Terry walked out into the alleyway one warm night in may, the stars shining clearly in the sky. The sight of Cale packing all his belongings into a box greeted his eyes. "Cale! My god, we thought you had died...or worse, that you went on a mass killing spree. What happened to you?" He asked as he moved over to Cale's side. "I have been learning Terry. When I fought you that one night, I noticed something. As much as I didn't want to admit it. You were good, really good. In fact, if your kick to my head had been any harder it would have been me in a coma instead of you. It was your knowledge of martial arts that gave you that advantage. So I took up to studying everything I could about martial arts and I have found a certain culmination of styles that suits my skills. I have practiced them every day and have learned how to meditate and the benefits of doing so." Terry was dumb founded, the fact that Cale was able to be so calm while talking to a fur was strange enough, but hearing that he had picked up meditation, that was just out of this world strange and the fact that he had actually complimented him, that was a reason to believe that somehow and in some way, he had slipped into an alternate dimension. "Cale, are you sure you are ok?" Terry asked, a little worried, more for himself than Cale at the moment, trying to figure out if he was still on earth. "I'm fine Terry, more important, I'm ready to start fighting for you. However I have one condition I want met before I begin fighting. I want you to teach me as much as you can about the martial arts that I am trying to learn." Terry was ecstatic, this was great. Little did he know that Cale had chosen two of the most obscure and difficult ancient martial arts styles to study followed by one that was illegal to teach in the U.S. and in Europe. However for now he agreed to his condition. The training began immediately that night starting with a lengthy three hours of meditation where Terry and Cale spent the time using words to fight rather than fists. Describing how they would attack and defend against each other using their own styles and getting to know each other's fighting techniques. It became quickly apparent that Cale had an advantage, his styles allowed him to put so much force on all of Terry's blocks that he either broke through them or he stunned Terry long enough to attack him. Terry's only option was to avoid and attack when he got an open shot from Cale's side or back. They moved from verbal fighting to actual sparring and it proved to be just as they had earlier found out. Cale was a titan of strength. In the short time he had studied those obscure arts he had learned enough to surpass most martial artists these days. Cale's innate ability to study and apply his studies was amazing, the effectiveness of that ability was even more amazing. In the weeks that followed Cale and Terry sparred and meditated and sparred even more. Training Cale and refining him into a martial artist. What little information Terry was able to gather was more than enough. Books that detailed devastating attacks and techniques to destroy opponents in a single move. Cale was slowly becoming a master in his own style and soon it would be time for him to put his training to the test. Little did he know that time would be sooner than he thought. * * * The crowd shouted and yelled as the sound of breaking glass filled the room, an empty beer bottle crashing over one golden retriever's head as he was getting up off the floor. The jackal holding the broken bottle quickly tossed it aside as he kicked the downed retriever in the side of the head before jumping down on his chest and putting him in a choke hold until the opponent finally tapped out and the match was over. The crowd loved every moment of it and danced and cheered in time with the music blaring from the speakers in the empty ware house."Alright Cale, this is it, your first real fight in the league of underground fighting. Remember everything you learned and I promise you will come out on top. Hell, just fight like you did when we first fought and you will most likely win. Everyone is betting against you right now except me, kid we are going to make a killing tonight." Terry spoke with the gusto of a real trainer as he motivated Cale for his first real fight. It was finally time for the human to put his training to the test and see where his life would go from here. The crowd parted like the Red sea as Cale's opponent entered the arena. A hulking bull dog that looked like the only fat in his body was in his brain. His body was built like a bronze sculpture, perfectly toned and muscled. The bulldog flexed a few times and laughed at the sight of a couple of young female kittens practically drooling over him. As for Cale, his entrance wasn't so pleasing. The Crowd practically threw him into the arena, shoving him here and there and booing him constantly. As he entered the arena he took his stance and readied himself. "This is it? A lousy human? This is all I get!? Hah this will be over faster than you can say-" The bull dog was cut off with a kick to his chest that sent him flying into a pillar. Cale stood there, his foot deftly hanging in mid air where it had made contact with the bulldog. His baggy black pants tucked into his steel covered combat boots. The chains on his pants jingling in time with the chains on his vest that solely covered his torso. Slowly Cale lowered his leg and took his stance once more. The bulldog shook his head trying to gain his senses after the surprising attack. Growling in anger he rushed towards the human cocking his fist and swinging at Cale. It was a simple dodge, nothing more than a side step as the canine plowed past Cale. The crowd was silent. They had not even imagined it would be like this. They had believed the human would end up crushed to pieces. Here it was he was ending up mocking this muscle bound canine. The bulldog turned around and charged Cale once more, this time the human stood his ground. Moving his arms in a circular motion, he inhaled as he moved them to his right side. Exhaling harshly as he thrust his right open palmed hand directly into the bulldog's chest. It was as if a bolt of lightning had hit the beast, sending him tumbling backwards like a rag doll. The resounding cracking and crunching of rib bones burned into the silence of the crowd as Cale slowly inhaled once more, returning to his stance. In his training he had come a ways in perfecting the technique of the God Fist style, he was still an amateur by all terms but even still the style lived up to its name, providing a devastating blow that would end any battle if given the time to concentrate one's focus enough. Soon from the silence came cheering. The crowd exploded in a roar of celebration at the new fighter's victory. The spectators screamed and cheered wanting to see another fight. And so they got their wish. That night Cale went through sixteen different opponents and barely even broke a sweat. Terry had told him that this would most likely happen. He had explained that this ware house was a low class venue and attracted only low class fighters. However, it was a stepping stone to Cale's success. When Cale had decided that he had enough for one night he signaled Terry to come into the arena, which the collie did without any hesitation. "Ladies and Gentle furs alike. Tonight, you have witnessed the birth of a new fighter. Cale Benziger, A.K.A. â€" Death Punch Benziger." The crowd cheered and roared begging for another fight as Cale exited the arena. It had been a profitable first night for Cale and Terry, Cale pocketed well over ten grand and Terry was now a famous manager for beginner's level fighting and soon to be pro fighting at this rate. The adrenaline of the night was finally wearing off as Cale walked outside, the full moon of a summer night kissed his now toned and muscled form with pale moon light as he closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the sky and letting the cool breeze drift over him. He thought about how great he felt right now and how different it was compared to his old life. This was perfect, and there was nothing in this world that could ruin the moment.A soft paw touched the back of his shoulder as an even softer voice spoke. "Is...is your name really Cale Benziger?" He turned around, mildly confused. Before him stood a creature so strange and amazing that if he had been high at the time he would have thought she was a ghost. It was a vixen with fur as white as morning snow. Long platinum blonde hair that fell to her mid shoulder blades and hazel green eyes. Her breasts were roughly a lesser c-cup, nicely filled out and unbelievably natural. A cute tuft of fur stuck out from between her breasts. Though most of her fur was of the purest white, her chest and belly were colored an almost crème-ish color much as the tip of her tail and in between her thighs. Her body had all the right curves in all the right places, from her shapely hips to her long slender legs and flowing foxy tail. She was dressed like any other teen, a sky blue tank top with the picture of a French fry screaming in horror at the sight of another French fry with a bite taken out of it. As well as a miniskirt that nearly broke the boundaries between stylish and obscene along with a pair of stylish high heels. For once Cale was taken aback at the sight of a furry, not out of disgust, but instead out of admiration, it was as if he had been charmed by her beauty. "Yes...I'm Cale Benziger, who are you?" He asked, feeling stupid that his mind could think of nothing else at the time to say. "I-I'm your sister......" * * * For those of you that liked this story, leave a comment. I don't really care about criticism, constructive criticism is nice, but if you just want to flame, hey, whatever. There will be another chapter in this story and hopefully many, many more after it. Thank you all and I hope you will read my next chapter. Special Thanks Goes out to ItTastesLikeGreen for his inspiring works and to so many other furs out there that have motivated me to do this in one way or another.