FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Interview with a Killer - Snap

By XP Author

Vicky smiled at the middle aged man. The twenty four year old mouse had finally managed to track the deer down. She ran a blog focused on serial killers of the past and present. Her most popular entry so far was a video interview with Basil 'Baz' Jones, aka The Burster. The black dragon was actually standing behind her, filling the hallway with his massive, black-scaled body. He wore a nicer set of clothes than he had in the interview, having gotten himself fitted for a relaxed suit to fit his new role as bodyguard for the young would-be reporter.

The man in question today was Hector 'Snap' Freitz. A fourty two year old deer who had a string of victims attached to him, but, like so many other murderers in the sprawling city of Alta Ferro, had never been caught. He looked between the mouse and the well dressed dragon standing behind her. "So, you want to interview me about being a serial killer? Why?" He quickly added. "Not that I'm admitting to doing anything, of course. I mean, how do I know you're not cops?" He spoke with a thick accent from the city. Almost stereotypical. To Baz, he sounded like half the cab drivers he'd ever met.

Baz just looked down at the man. "Do I look like a cop to you?" Hector had to admit. He did not.

The buck scoffed. "No. You look more like a hitman."

Vicky cleared her throat, though never lost her dazzling smile. "Baz here is actually the first serial killer I interviewed. You can check my blog if you want proof of who I am." She felt the dragon shift a little behind her as she just blurted out about his previous activities. "Don't worry, Mr. Freitz. Your face will be blurred and your voice augmented for your protection. Plus, I'm technically protected as a journalist. They can't demand my sources without breaking the constitution."

Hector sighed. "And I'm a source, am I?" He sighed and stepped out of the way. "Fine. What the hell. I think I heard about your little blog anyway. I guess the worst that happens is I'm finally caught and can stop looking over my shoulder all the time." Vicky stepped into the apartment. Hector looked up at Baz as he ducked to enter behind his ward. "And don't you worry none. Mice aren't my type."

The apartment in question was a dump. A one room studio apartment, with little in the way of furniture. A single, dirty seat sitting to one side that faced an old TV that Baz wasn't sure even worked, a bed that was just as dirty, if not more so, and a few small folding tables that were covered in take-out containers, many still filled with half-eaten food from who knows when. The dragon didn't live in the best of places, but compared to this place, his little apartment was a palace.

Vicky quickly started setting up her camera and mic for the interview itself. While she worked, Baz looked at Hector. "You have any more chairs?"

The deer chuckled. "Nothing you can sit on, big guy. Not without breaking it instantly." Baz just stared at him blankly. "Eh... I should have something for the lady to sit on." He wince. "A chair for her to sit on... I mean." He shook his head as he retrieved an uncomfortable looking wooden chair from near the container-covered table. "Eh... here ya go." Vicky nodded, moving the chair to sit nearby the dirty recliner near the TV. The recliner was shifted to face the other way for the interview. Baz just sat on the floor.

With everything in place, Vicky started. "Okay! I've got another treat for everyone today. Another interview! This time with the famous, or infamous, Snap!" She looked at Hector. "Would you prefer we call you something else? Not your real name, obviously."

Hector shook his head. "No... Snap will do." The deer suddenly felt very underdressed. He was wearing just a pair of faded, ratty jeans, and a flannel shirt that had more patches than original fabric. A far cry from the tailored suit the dragon was wearing, or the business casual attire of the young mouse across from him. His graying brown hair was also a bit of a mess, especially compared to the well groomed ponytail the mouse kept her blond hair in. The dragon, of course, had no hair to speak of, but that somehow made him look both more impressive and more intimidating. Maybe if the buck had antlers, it would at least add to his own figure, but it was off season for those... plus he was getting older.

Vicky continued in her chipper voice. "Well, a quick history lesson for those that haven't read my previous article on the man. Snap, or the Deer Snapper, is a long time killer in our fair city. He's been active, at least as far as records go, for nearly 25 years! His victims are always deer, does killed by his signature neck snap, though most are also quite badly beaten. And, of course, raped either before or after the case." She gave a grin at the man. "Can't really blame you for that one. They were all quite pretty before you got to them."

Hector managed a chuckle. "That's actually part of it..."

Vicky looked genuinely surprised to hear that. "Oh? Care to explain?"

Suddenly Hector felt a bit on the spot. "Uh..."

Vicky quickly added. "Oh, I should let you know. Don't worry about being vulgar or any of that. It's perfectly fine. Just be yourself." She giggled softly. "We're not exactly prime time TV here, after all. So be as graphic as you want."

He wasn't sure that helped or not. "Okay... well, about them all being pretty. That's part of it. See, I'm not the most... handsome of men. I know, I'm not hideous or anything, but just kinda average. So those pretty girls, they never take much notice of me." He scoffed. "And them pretty girls? They know they're pretty. Love to live it up and flaunt it. And the LOVE to put down people not as pretty as them. Hell, half of 'em would probably step over me rather than take the time to go around, then complain I got their expensive shoes dirty."

Vicky nodded slowly. "Sounds like you've had a lot of bad experiences in that. I'm really sorry. For the record, while I can't show your face for obvious reasons, I don't think you're hideous."

Hector smirked. "Thanks... but like I told your big friend, you're not my type. Call me old fashioned, but I like to stick with fellow deer." He hesitated. "Uh... should I not say that?"

Vicky shrugged. "I can edit it out if you prefer."

He nodded. "Y-yeah. Uh, so, like I was saying earlier, I only prefer deer. I guess I have a type."

The mouse grinned at him. "We all do, no matter what people like to claim." She moved on. "So, are there any stories you'd like to share with us then? Any particular victims that you remember?"

Hector frowned, thinking about that. "Uh... well, quite a few... I guess. There's the model. That one got on the big news channels."

Vicky nodded. "Oh yes. Elizabeth Thompson. Tell us about that one."

Hector shrugged. "Actually, the story for it isn't very big. I was walking home from the bar, got myself a bit lost from being a bit drunk, and ended up in uptown. The woman was just out on some stroll or something, and had gotten a bit away from her security. She gave me this look as she passed. You know the one, where you can tell they're thinking that you're some kind of living garbage? That look. So I just grabbed her and dragged her into the alley. Bashed her head against the metal dumpster back there, tore up her clothes a bit, and acted like I was taking a drunk friend home. No one said anything."

Vicky nodded slowly. "If I remember, she was found in an abandoned lot several blocks away from the hotel she was staying at."

Hector nodded back. "Yeah. I took her there. No one ever goes there but the homeless folk. You make enough noise at 'em, and they scatter off and leave you some privacy. So after that, I stripped her down and tied her arms up. Waited for her to come around again. Oh, you have no idea the mouth on that girl! Some awful words came out of her. So I broke her jaw. Then she starts screaming and trying to crawl away, still trying to spout about how much of a piece of shit I was. Got me so riled up, I couldn't take it and just snapped her neck right there. Normally like to play with 'em a little more first, but she got me really pissed." He shrugged a bit, feeling a little more relaxed telling his tale. Though it was still a little awkward. "Anyway, she was still a pretty girl, and had a fine piece of ass on her. So I didn't let that go to waste at all. Fucked her a few times before I heard the homeless coming back. Made my way out of there after that and left her there. That's about it."

Baz watched as Vicky started her usual squirming as she heard the first hand account of the murder. He really wondered about the woman. Vicky still managed to keep her self calm. "Well, any other stories? How about your first time?"

Hector scoffed. "Oh... that bitch. Yeah. There's a story to her."

* * *

Hector shifted from one hoof to the other as the elevator rose. Only nineteen, and here he was, going to meet the CEO of a tech company! To say he was nervous was an understatement. He wore his best clothes, though that didn't say much. His family didn't have much money, but his mother had given him enough for him to buy what passed for a nice suit. It was a size too big, since he couldn't afford any kind of tailoring. Still, the gray suit was still the best piece of clothing he had to wear.

The elevator made a ping as it reached his destination. The doors slowly opened, and he found himself entering a huge room. The floor was covered in some red carpet with an ornate pattern in gold, the walls were wood paneled tastefully, with large windows giving a stunning view of the city outside. He had never been this high in a building before. He took a moment to look out at the city. He could barely see the cars below. He felt like a kid in a candy store.

He was knocked out of his starstruck awe by the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby. He turned to see a sharply dressed ferret standing behind a huge desk, the man only a few years older than Hector. His hair was cut short and slicked back, and even his fur seemed more groomed than normal. "Can I help you?" The ferret asked with the same tone he might give to a street peddler offering him some knock-off jewelry.

Hector stepped forward. "Y-ye-" He stuttered nervously. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes. I'm Hector Freitz. I'm here for an interview with Ms. Devlin."

The ferret looked him up and down appraisingly. It was clear he didn't like what he saw. "Really? And you came dressed like that?" Before he could respond, the man picked up the phone. After a moment he spoke into it. "Ms. Devlin? I have a... Mr. Freitz here to see you? Claims he has an appointment." He paused again. "Very well." He put the phone down, then motioned to a door on his left. "Through there. And good luck." He added under his breath, just loud enough for Hector to hear. "You'll need it..."

Hector moved away from the rude ferret, and pushed open the door. Inside was a huge office. The walls were lined with bookshelves, all adorned with awards or trophies, or other flashy bits of decoration that looked tasteful more than tacky. Each one was probably worth more than his family made in a year. Hell, probably more than they made in a decade. Behind the desk was Margaret Devlin, CEO of Teletech. At only thirty one, she had risen to the top of the company and helped to bring it to be one of the top telecommunications companies in the country. She stood just a few inches shorter than him, yet seemed to tower over him with her presence. Her wavy brown hair was left loose, yet still seemed so well groomed. The red dress was both elegant and seductive, but classy and modest. In short, she was gorgeous.

And she gave him a look that he'd remember forever. She didn't manage to keep the slight sneer from her lips, her nose wrinkling, like a fetid piece of trash had blown into her office. "You are Hector Freitz? I expected someone... older." Her immediate shift in demeanor, from powerful woman to stuck up bitch slapped him out of his momentary staring. She was very pretty on the outside. She was very ugly everywhere else.

He stepped forward anyway. "Y-yes, ma'am. I'm here to interview for the intern position with-"

She interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "First off, don't ever call me 'ma'am' again. Second, I don't care. I'm not interested. You can show yourself out."

That was it? "B-but ma- Ms. Devlin. I got a call that your company was interested in my resume. Th-they said that I had-"

She again interrupted him. "They obviously hadn't seen you." She looked directly at him. "Mr. Freitz. I keep everyone in my company to a certain standard. You have to look the part if you want to work here. And you do not look the part."

His heart fell so hard, he thought it would crash through the floor below him, and travel all the way to the basement of the building. "I'm... sorry if my clothes aren't... It's the best I could afford right now. But I'll buy new after a few paychecks!"

She shook her head. "It's not just your attire, Mr. Freitz. It's everything. Your hair is a mess, your fur looks ungroomed, your whole demeanor is... let's say it doesn't speak confidence. No, I don't think you getting a new shirt will change any of that." That sinking feeling was now digging underground. "Now, I'm very busy, so please leave my office." When he just stood there, staring at her numbed, she waved her hand. "Now, Mr. Freitz. The door is behind you."

He didn't remember leaving, or the elevator ride back down. He was numbed. He had been shut down so quickly, just because he didn't look like some part he was supposed to play. It was the same in high school, all the girls laughing that he looked like some looser, because he didn't come from money. Because he couldn't make himself pretty, like some damned super model. He didn't know how long he had been just sitting on the floor in the parking garage, but it must have been hours. He felt like he should have cried, but he didn't feel enough for that. This job was supposed to be his ticket to a better life.

He realized he had been sitting there for hours when he looked up and saw almost no cars in the parking garage. It had been full before. No one had come over to see if he was alright. Everyone just ignored him, pretended that he wasn't there, or possibly just didn't see him, despite sitting out in the open like this, too wrapped up in themselves to care about another person. He pushed himself up, and was just about to make his way to his truck when he saw her. Margaret Devlin, walking to her fancy car that cost more than he would ever see in his life. He had to convince her!

"Ms. Devlin!" He called out as he rushed over to her.

The woman flinched, dropping her keys. "God's teeth, child. You scared me half to- Mr. Freitz? What the devil do you want?"

He slowed to a halt a few paces away. "Please, Ms Devlin. You have to hear me out. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself! If I don't work out after a month, you can fire me and never hear from me again!"

She sighed. "No, Mr. Freitz. I don't have to hear you out. I don't have to do anything." She turned on him then. "But since you clearly didn't get my polite message before, allow me to be abundantly clear." He flinched at her suddenly aggressive tone and stance. "You, Hector, are a piece of trash. You look like trash, you act like trash, you are trash. You will never find a job here. Everything about you screams inadequacy. You are, at the very best, average. I don't like average. I don't associate with_average!_ And I certainly don't employ average!"

He stammered back at her "B-but... my grades were always above average... and even on your entry test-"

She scoffed. "You're grades? Who the fuck cares? This isn't high school, little boy. You need to grow up and see the world for how it is. No one cares about how good your grades were, or how well you read, or what kind of extracurricular activities you participated in. This is the real world." He suddenly felt like he was only two inches tall. But somewhere deep inside of him, he felt fire. "Now, I'll give you a piece of advice for free. Instead of asking me a for a job, you should be practicing asking a different question. One that will likely serve you well for the rest of your life." She held out her hands, as if offering something. "'Do you want paper, or plastic?'" She turned back around. "Now get the fuck out of my building before I call the police."

He watched her look around on the ground for her dropped keys, cursing under her breath the whole time. The fire inside of him grew, filled his veins, his breath, his very being. He clenched his fists. Just as she found her keys and bent over to pick them up, he spoke. "Ms. Devlin?"

She sighed. "What the fuck do you want, child?" She started to stand back up again. She never got the chance. He grabbed her head and slammed it against the side of her car as hard as he could. Hard enough that it left a dent in the door. She jerked and fell onto the ground, laying still, but breathing.

He shouted down at her. "I am not a child, you fucking cunt!" He expected her to stand back up and start shouting at him, but she lay there on the concrete ground. He panted heavily, his rage still filling him, but also a fresh panic. He leaned down to check if she was still alive. She was breathing, but he also saw blood on the ground. Turning her head, he saw it was from a cut on her forehead, though not deep. She was out cold. His immediate thought was to bolt, but then what? She knew who he was. He kept staring down at her pretty face. His anger flared up again.

He bent down and picked her up, carrying her to his truck. He dumped her in the back seat and threw a blanket over her to cover her. It certainly looked like he had a dead body back there. He swore to himself as he drove off, heading straight out of town. He had no idea where he was running to. He couldn't go home. Instead he decided to head to an old farm his father used to work at back in the day. It had closed some years ago, abandoned now.

By the time the woman started to come back to her senses, he had already taken her into the abandoned barn, tied her hands to a post once used for horses, and was pacing about the place muttering to himself. She groaned. "Wha..." She was suddenly very awake, tugging on the restraints. "What the fuck?"

He turned as he heard her talk. "Oh, good. You're finally awake."

She glared at him. "Hector!? What the fuck do you think you're doing!? Let me go this instant!"

He laughed. "Oh no. I'm not doing that, Margaret!" He spat her name back at her like it was some insult. "No, you think I'm just some piece of trash, but you're the one that acts like a piece of SHIT! You think you're better than me just because you're pretty and rich!"

She spat at him. "I am better than you, child!" She yelped as his fist connected with her face again.

He again shouted at her. "I am not a child! Stop calling me a child!"

She spat again, this time spitting up a bit of blood. "Then what are you? A kidnapper? You going to ransom me? You'll be arrested, and go to prison for a VERY long time!" He clenched his fists again. "Fine. I won't call you a child. I'll call you what you are. You're garbage! You're just a piece of trash! You are a stupid, fucking, insignificant piece of filth!"

He couldn't contain his rage anymore. "SHUT UP!" He screamed at her and slammed his fist into her face. Then again. And again. His knuckles started to hurt he hit her so many times. He felt blood on them. Most of it was hers, some was his. When he finally stopped pummeling her, her face was no longer pretty. Her nose was broken, blood running from it, and her lips, and cheek. Her right eye was starting to swell. She panted almost as much as he did now. She groaned in pain, still mostly conscious, but at least not talking.

He sneered down at her. "There. Now your face isn't so pretty anymore. But you know what? That's fine." He needed to do more. He remembered something she said earlier and got an idea. He started to strip himself. He'd probably have to abandon the clothes anyway, since her blood had already splattered against him. Soon, he was standing stark naked, his cock already rising. He leaned down and lifted her head up. "You told me that I stink of inadequacy. Do you think this is inadequate, Ms. Devlin?" He slapped her cheek with his hardening shaft. At full mast, he would stand at eight inches. Not the biggest, but above average at least.

It took her several seconds to realize just what he was waving in front of her. When she did, she flinched away. She looked up at him in a panic. He gave her a sadistic smile. "Oh, not so high and mighty now, are you?" She shook her head, tried to speak, but only managed some kind of slurred words. He wondered if he'd given her brain damage with that beating. He didn't care anymore. "Ms. Devlin. Your dress is ruined. It's all dirty." He grabbed her dress by the neck and yanked as hard as he could. Since it was already ripped, it tore open, though it was an effort to do it. "Let's get it off of you!"

Now she screamed. He ripped her bra off of her as well, exposing her jiggly tits. They were a little too firm. Probably fake. He didn't care and still grabbed one, squeezing it hard. "What? I thought you wanted assertiveness!"

She managed to speak again. "Go to 'ell!" Her words were still slurred, not helped by her split lip and bruised cheek, or the broken noes. She instead spat at him, spraying her blood onto his face. "Piece o' shit!"

He flinched as the blood splattered on his face, then growled at her. "Fucking cunt!" He grabbed her head, one hand clamping onto her mouth. "I am so sick of women like you! PEOPLE like you! Pieces of shit pretending to be so much better! You know what, though? Your blood isn't blue, it's just as red as mine." He leaned in closer. "And you can go to hell first, you cunt." He suddenly twisted her head as hard as he could. He heard the crunch of her neck. Her whole body jerked, her legs starting to tremble uncontrollably. He twisted her head hard the other way. Her spine crunched even louder. Her body gave another series of jerks before growing still.

He panted heavily, letting her head go and watching it flop to the side awkwardly. He saw the look in her wide eyes, one of panic and fear. He felt that right now. He'd just murdered someone. But at the same time, his cock was throbbing hard. And here was a still warm, fuckable woman. He'd never be able to fuck someone like her normally. Always thinking she was so much better. His anger rose again as he stared at the corpse. "Fucking bitch!"

He ripped her panties down her legs, exposing her pussy. He wasn't surprised to find she wasn't exactly wet with arousal, but he didn't care. He grabbed her legs and lined himself up with that entrance. With no lead up, he jammed his cock inside of her. She was still warm, and surprisingly tight. He had expected her to be loose and well used, figuring she fucked her way to the top. He started to pound away at her. Her head lolled around and her tits bounced with every thrust. He grabbed her head and lifted it up to look into her eyes. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" Every time he moved her head, he heard the bones in her neck grinding.

He dropped her head again, and grabbed her legs to raise her hips up. He started to pound into her, as deep as he could. He didn't hold back, and he had been so pent up, it didn't take long for him to cum. He thrust deep into her, filling her cooling cunt with his seed. It wasn't enough for him, though. He pulled out of her cunt, his cum drooling out onto the floor. He stood up and started to stroke his still hard shaft. It wasn't enough. So instead, he grabbed her limp head and shoved his cock into her slack mouth.

He started pumping his hips again, thrusting deep into her throat. "Should have started with this. Would have shut you up real quick!" He grabbed her long ears and dragged her head forward with his thrusting. He was able to last a little longer this time, but the feeling of her cooling throat around his cock dragged him over the edge again soon enough. He blasted his second load of the night down her throat, pouring shot after shot into her stomach.

He raped her corpse several more times that night, fucking her ass, her tits, cumming on her face, until he was spent and aching. The sun was starting to come up now, and he felt sore and incredibly tired, but also somehow more satisfied than he ever had. Destroying some pretty bitch that had looked down on him like that gave him the best night of his life. He had never cum so many times in one go before. And she would be the first of many, many 'pretty' people he would destroy over the years.

He collected his clothes, got dressed enough that he was decent, and got into his truck. He drove off back to the city, leaving the defiled body in the abandoned barn. She wouldn't be found for months. By then, he'd already claimed three more victims.

* * *

By the time Hector finished his story, it was clear he was more than a little aroused. He had been rubbing himself through his pants during the last part. Vicky had also been squirming in her seat during that part. Baz just shook his head at her.

Vicky cleared her throat. "Uh... well, that was pretty intense!"

Hector blushed a little, smiling at the young mouse. "Y-yeah. That one sticks with me to this day."

Vicky nodded. "I can see why." She sat up a little more. "Well, I think that will be all for this interview. Thank you again, Snap, for sharing this with us."

Hector nodded. "Uh... yeah, it was my pleasure, I guess."

Vicky looked at her camera. "I'll see all of you next time!" With that, she snapped her fingers, a signal to herself where to cut the video when editing. She hopped to her feet after that and moved to turn everything off. "Seriously though, thank you for sharing. I can see you're still quite passionate about that one."

Hector chuckled. "Well... yeah. Though you seemed to enjoy the story quite a bit, too..."

Baz spoke up this time. "She does that. Got a thing for hearing about murders."

Vicky giggled as she stuffed the equipment into her bag. "So I'm a groupie for serial killer-rapists. Everyone needs a hobby!" She stuck her tongue out at him.

Baz shook his head. "Oh! Uh... no. Nothing like that..." He was surprised to think he wished it was.

Vicky blushed, but also shook her head. "I mean... no." She laughed then. "I mean, look at him! One try and I'd be pieces on the wall!" Baz just let out a long suffering sigh. Maybe he didn't wish it was after all.

The pair made their way back to the doorway. Vicky shook Hector's hand. "Thanks again, Hector. I'll have this edited and up on my blog in the next few days."

The deer nodded. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for it." He looked at Baz. "You keep her safe, big guy."

The dragon nodded. "That is my job."

As they walked out and down the hall, Vicky sighed softly. "I need to go home and have a nice cold shower."

Baz bumped her with his arm gently. "You need to go home and ride a vibrator for a while."

She blushed. "H-hey! No!" She muttered under her breath. "They're not as fun as real people anyway..."

Baz just shook his head. "If that's an invitation, you know how it ends."

She bit her lip. "There are other ways..."

The dragon sighed. "You're going to be the death of me, Vic."

She grinned up at him, putting her arm around his. "Shouldn't that be the other way around?"

Baz shook his head, but smiled as she held his arm. "I'd rather keep you around for a while."

* *END* *