FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

­

I woke up and Lee was gone.

I also couldn't move.

My body was so stiff that to wiggle a toe seemed impossible. Were my toes even still attached? Since I couldn't crane my neck to look around it was as though I was nothing but a dismembered head tossed onto a bed to comingle with the throw-pillows, and the rest of my body didn't even feel as if it was there. It was a strange and eerie feeling. I felt trapped - frozen in my own skin and fur. Slowly, though, after I closed my eye again - not having much choice of doing anything else - I felt life begin to creep throughout my limbs and fill them with warmth and relief from lying in the same position for hours. I even forgot about the pain I was in, but I was quickly reminded of it once I tried to move.

I barely twitched, but that tiny movement caused my muscles - from my face to my calves - to spasm so viciously that each one felt as though it was shredding itself into paper-thin strips. Being burned alive could've compared to the way I writhed there without so much as gasping for a breath. Somehow, though, a scream broke from my throat even though my teeth were clenched so tightly together that I heard my jaw pop before anything else. Even when I jammed my head back into my pillow and bit down on the fabric did it continue to tear out of me. I didn't stop until the pain did. After what felt like an eternity it faded from my body like heat escaping a corpse, and when it was gone I felt more exhausted than when I'd fallen asleep in Lee's arms.

I lay there and cried into my pillow. The wet spots on the fabric quickly turned cold against my face, and - I had to admit - the one over my bad eye felt nice. Still, I was afraid to move again so I didn't. Not even when the door to my room burst open did I jump.

"Sasha!?" It was my mother. Her voice quivered with unshackled fright. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She trundled clumsily through my room, her normally light footfalls shaking the floor, and I screamed again as she put her paw on my back and my lats twisted into a corkscrew along my spine. She herself squealed and recoiled.

Claire waltzed in then. "What's going on?"

Had everyone camped out in the hallway next to my door last night?

"I don't know! He's just...screaming! I can't even touch him!" Mom was in tears...again. Well, so was I, but...

"His muscles are probably stiff! He's been asleep for almost three days!"

W...wait, what?

Mom sniffed all wet and snotty. "I didn't think about that..."

Whoa, whoa, whoa - let's take a step back for a minute!

"Yeah, mom," Claire berated. I felt breaths whisk across the side of my face as she leaned in close to me. "Good afternoon, sunshine."

Bite me.

I guess my face mirrored my thoughts. She smiled at what I'm sure was the most gruesome expression I'd ever made. "Oh, you sourpuss; how about I give you massage?"

Bye, Mr. Sourpuss, and hello Sir eternally grateful. If I could have nodded more without my neck feeling like it was going to snap I would have.

"Okay. It'll hurt at first, so just bear with me." I heard her feet shift as she turned to mom. "Can you get him some pain reliever? He'll need it."

Mom stuttered something, and then her anxious presence faded from the room.

"Okay," Claire grunted. The crack of popping fingers meant she was getting ready, so I myself readied for the best kind of pain there was. "Let's work out the kinks, shall we?"

Oh, God, the kinks didn't go without a fight.

At first it felt like my sister was cleaving each bit of muscle from my skeleton with a sharpened stiletto-heel. Even still, she had to avoid the areas with bruises because they were still too tender to trifle with, but everywhere else was fair game, and once I'd been warmed up like cold putty all of the tensions melted under her practiced hands. God was I glad she was studying to be a physical therapist. As far as I was concerned it was her calling, and I probably moaned and grunted in pleasure more than I should have, but, goddamn, it felt amazing. After about an hour once she was done I bet I could've tied myself into a pretzel. Well, maybe a pretzel rod. I was still hurting, after all. No matter how great the massage, it can't change the fact that I got the shit beat out of me. Luckily mom finally showed up with the Tylenol. I guess she hadn't wanted to interrupt, although I don't think the saying 'if the bed is rocking don't come a knocking" includes deep tissue massage.

Regardless, my tummy roared and reminded me that I was starving. As Claire had let slip, I'd been in a sort of pseudo-hibernation since Lee had caressed me to sleep on Friday - last Friday. It was now Monday; 3 o'clock to be precise. I hadn't eaten anything for days. My stomach was practically concave. Mom and Claire helped me down to the kitchen, and I'd stare from my sunken belly to the clock over the oven in utter disbelief. It was like I'd time travelled. Everything felt so surreal.

"Here, baby," my mother said as she sat a bowl of oatmeal on the bar for me to enjoy. The bubbly, steaming, glue-like substance looked anything but appetizing, but I was much too ravenous to complain. She noticed. Her round, little ears fell back as she stared. I couldn't tell if she was more concerned or disgusted by how I started wolfing the food down. "Slowly, hon. Don't make yourself sick."

I looked up at her abashedly. "Mmmphkaaay," I grumbled with a mouthful of bland. Apparently she didn't know what sugar or cinnamon was.

She propped herself on the bar and rested on her elbows. She attempted a smile, and so did I. "You feel any better?"

I did.

"You're eye doesn't look as bad anymore. The swelling's gone down. Does your head still hurt?"

"No."

"Good."

I winced as she reached out a paw and brushed my bangs aside. She frowned, but otherwise ignored my reaction as she ran a finger across my forehead. I'd forgotten about the cut.

"Oh," Claire chirped as she pulled the milk jug from the fridge and took a swig, "you're going to love what your hard-head did to your car."

"Claire, I think he's got enough to think about right now," my mother said.

"Whutsh?" I mumbled. I swallowed the oatmeal I'd been rolling around on my tongue.

"That?" Claire said tapping her forehead. I rubbed the scab beneath my fur. "We thought whoever hurt you cut you on purpose, but..." She stood rigid there before the fridge, and then she slung her head forward and tore it back, mimicking being stunned.

"Claire!" my mother gasped.

I was probably more concerned about what she meant than I should have been. It was just a car, but it was my car. "Is there a dent!"

"Yep," she said. "You know, you should've played football instead of running track. You're tougher than a handful of those guys put together. Head like a rock."

I whimpered.

"Then," she continued. "Lee wouldn't have to worry himself over you so much. You'd be right there where he could..."

"Wait, what?"

My mother then took over. "Lee, sweetie; He's been by every day since you got hurt to check on you. He's a real sweetheart. His friend is, too. They're both very nice boys."

I turned red as Claire winked coyly - and obviously - at me. "Yeah - veeeeeery nice." Her tail gave an excited flourish behind her.

My mother genuinely smiled. "Oh, Claire." She then attempted a wink of her own at me, and then she held up a paw and made the "A-ok" sign. My stomach twisted in horror at the sight, and my tail immediately went limp.

They both laughed, and I died a little more inside.

However..."Wait," I said. "Friend? What friend?"

"Lee's friend?" Claire clarified but didn't clarify.

"Cluny - no...Rudy. He came with Lee both yesterday and the day before. Handsome husky? Red fur?"

I spat out my oatmeal in shock. It sprayed like a gelatinous mist across the island, and Claire and Mom - eyes wide - stared at me as I tried to play it off like a sneeze. Mom bought it and grabbed a towel. Claire, on the other hand, cocked an eyebrow at me. I dabbed at the globs of sticky that had gotten into my fur with the towel Mom gave to me, and all the while I was wishing that the towel could wipe away what had happened Friday night with Lee.

I wasn't surprised that Lee and Red knew one another - they were on the football team together after all; it was more so the fact that they were friends. That I hadn't expected. Not in a million years did I ever imagine that both of the guys I was interested in were friends. What the fuck was I going to do? I couldn't stomach my oatmeal anymore. I shoved the bowl away and stared at the clock again in fear.

"When do they usually come?"

Mom looked toward the clock as well. "Well, school's out. If they were going to drop by it'd be soon. Lee just knocks. He and your father have taken up with one another a bit."

Claire pulled out a stool and sat next to me, letting her ears flutter; she tucked a loose strand of her brown hair behind one. "Surprise, surprise at that." Her eyes found mine. "I think he's still just ashamed he almost hit him and is trying to make up for it."

"He is not! I mean, yeah, he's ashamed of that, but he likes the boy," Mom badgered.

She had taken my bowl and was emptying it into the garbage disposal. With a twist of her wrist she turned on the switch, and the monster beneath the cabinet started to eviscerate whatever fell into its gaping, little mouth. I thought about trying to shove my head in there. It wasn't doing much good where it was. I sure didn't have it on my shoulders, because apparently I was a fucking moron. I don't know where my mind had been.

"I know he does," Claire said brightly.

"And I like him, too," Mom added. I groaned as she smiled and gave me a thumbs up. She then turned on the faucet and began to wash my bowl out. Her eyes would flash to me every few seconds as she spoke and cleaned. "So, uh - you don't have to tell, especially given you just woke up, but do you..." She bobbed her eyebrows. I hated that gesture. It made me think of a guy from the forties catcalling a chick with his khakis pulled up to his chest and his thumbs stuck in his suspenders.

"Mommmm," I groaned.

She drew back woundedly as if I'd bitten her head off. "What!? I'm just curious! You never talk to us about these things!"

I rolled my eyes. "For good reason."

She pulled the critical-mom stare from her arsenal and aimed it right at me; her tail whipped around behind her in agitation. "What's that supposed to m..."

The doorbell rang, thank God. She looked from me to the living room, and then she abandoned her quest for self-satisfaction to go and see who was calling. I immediately knew it was Red and Lee. Or I thought it was. I had a gut-wrenching mixture of relief and anxiety as Mom returned with two Police officers in tow. They looked about as enthused as I was to be there at the moment.

For the most part I'd never seen a Police officer up close before. I guess no one really ever wants to, but it's still an odd thing to realize. They were both fully uniformed with nice, pressed black pants and shirts, shiny leather belts, shoes, and straps; their guns and batons hung by their sides, and their badges and patches were stuck to their chests with pride. One, a hare with arms and legs as lanky as his ears, dipped his cap to us and smiled. The other, a stocky Wolverine who looked like he ate rocks for breakfast, just grunted to me in acknowledgement and looped his thumbs through his belt.

"Hello," the hare said. He had a calm, soothing voice, and he fit the bill as the quintessential "good cop" as far as I could tell. His beefy friend, in turn, was just the opposite and quite intimidating even by just being present. "I'm Trooper Rutger, and this charming fellow is Trooper Ridge."

Trooper Ridge gave another deep grunt which I took as him saying hello. I tried to be friendly and smile at him, but he was just too sour looking and I ended up grimacing at his boots.

Rutger grinned and bowed his head to me. His massive ears flopped forward and shifted his cap out of place. His brow furrowed as he yanked it back down, and then he brought his attention back to me. "It's a relief to see you're up and about. I'm glad all of that rest did you some good."

"Mmhmm," Ridge uttered. "Good."

I shifted uneasily on my stool and pulled my tail up into my lap. "Uh, thanks."

"So," Rutger said. He shifted into the kitchen and pulled out a clip board that he'd been holding in his hand. Ridge stayed where he was and seemed to stare off into space, but I reckoned he was paying as much attention to his surroundings as I was. Rutger placed the clipboard down on the island next to me. "Sasha, we've been dropping by every day since your parents filed a report on your assault Saturday morning. We've gathered as much info on the incident as we could from your teacher Mr. Atlee, your friend Lee, and as well as your family. With you indisposed it was as far as we could go, so we're glad you're back on your feet, and we hope you don't mind if we get the necessary information from you so we can get this ball rolling."

Ridge nodded and actually spoke for the first time. "Yours is the most important testimony, after all." His voice was so deep and growling that I could feel it vibrating in my chest. It took me aback for a moment.

"No," I mumbled. Ridge grinned at my surprise, and his smile was just as frightening as, well - his everything. I wouldn't have been surprised if he did in fact eat rocks. Those teeth were menacing. "No, it's fine. Ask away."

"Alrighty then," Rutger chirped as he yanked a pen from the pocket of his shirt.

I didn't know if I expected the interview to be as long as it was, or if it should have been more in depth, but after an hour of questioning the team of Rutger and Ridge decided they'd gotten all they needed from me. Given, it wasn't a lot to go on, but they seemed satisfied, and after Rutger had packed his clipboard away he cleared his throat, went to a tote he'd left by the front door, and pulled something out before walking back into the kitchen with it. He held it up for us to see.

It was a disk. The clear, plastic case had "Friday, Oct. 21st - EBHS Security, East - 5:00PM - 11:00PM."

"Conall made sure the department got a copy of the school's security recordings from Friday night to look over," Rutger said.

"Yeah," my mother said. She directed the officers toward the living room as Rutger apparently wanted to show us something from the disk. "He told us he would do that. Is there anything on it?" She froze mid step and grimaced as she turned to me and then back to the officers. "I mean, does it show anything? I don't think I'd...we'd be able to..." She looked on the verge of tears again, but I had to agree; I don't know if I'd be able to watch and see myself being attacked in Hi-Def surround sound.

Ridge shook his head, however, and once again graced us with his rib-quaking voice. "Regrettably - and fortunately - you can't see the attack take place."

A sigh of relief escaped both my mother and I.

"But," Ridge continued holding up a thick finger.

Rutledge had found our DVD player and popped in the disk. We watched as he navigated through the settings and pulled up the security recording. Ridge waited patiently as his partner fast-forwarded through playback of the empty school parking lot. The time was represented up in the top, right-hand corner of the screen, and it flew by hour after hour until, out of the top of the screen and far in the back, Red's car appeared as we had pulled down for him to let me out at mine. I bit my tongue and let out a cheep of shock as I watched myself slip out of the Mustang and then slip back in again when I had kissed him on the forehead.

My mother looked to me confused. "Sasha, who was that? What were you..."

"Here it is," Ridge rumbled.

Everyone looked to the screen to see a black figure emerge from beneath the security camera and glide toward the steps that had led down to my car. It froze in the middle of the parking lot as Red drove off, and then it continued on after he had vanished out of the top of the screen from whence we'd come earlier. It reached the top of the steps, seemed to roll its wide shoulders, and then descended. Even though you couldn't see anything I knew what was happening. My body even started to throb and ache again as if I could feel the blows as they occurred there out of sight. I guess I had expected the Shadow to reemerge, but it never did. Once again Rutger fast-forwarded through nothing but seemingly empty parking lot. You couldn't even tell there was someone just there slowly bleeding to death.

"And enter Conall and Lee," Rutger said.

A truck's headlights illuminated the night as it had been captured there, and they came to a sudden stop at 10:45 pm. A silhouette leaped from the truck and, as the vehicle turned around, it was bathed in white light, and Lee was further branded as the shining hero from my dream as he disappeared down the hill in a blur toward me.

"That Hawthorne kid is something else," Ridge rumbled pleasantly.

Claire caught my eye. She was staring much too intently at me when she spoke, and her voice was rife with scrutiny. "Isn't he though?"

Kill me now, I thought.

My mother coughed daintily, hopefulness for something more making her black lips quiver toward a smile. "Was there anything else?"

Rutger looked to Ridge and the wolverine nodded. "There's one thing," he said. "It's the only distinguishing thing to be honest - if you can even call it that."

The hare rewound the footage and paused on the most discernible frame that had the Shadow in it. He himself squinted and leaned toward the TV to be sure what was needed to be seen could be made out. One of his ears flopped against the screen, and static popped against it and made him jump. He rubbed his long pinna gingerly. "Ouch. Anyway, take a look right there." He tapped the screen right over the Shadow's back. "Watch when the Mustang's headlights pass over him in that instant."

We watched as hard as we could, but we didn't see anything. He replayed the scene a few more times to no success, but at last, in the briefest of moments, the light reflected off of something on his sweater. How did I know he was wearing a sweater? Well, he had a hood on, but...

"No," I mumbled.

There was a logo, but it wasn't just any logo.

It was my school track and field team's logo that we'd gotten printed the year before; there was no mistaking it. I'd seen it enough times to know, even if I only caught a nanosecond of it from a grungy recording.

"You see it?" Ridge asked.

"Yeah," I gulped. "I did."

My mother finally picked it out, too. She'd seen it just as often as me. "Oh, honey," she gasped.

Claire just stared in bewilderment at the screen.

I felt the worse kind of betrayal. My team...the team I'd been a part of, the team where we were all practically family...I couldn't believe it. It couldn't have been true. There was no way someone from my group had hurt me, but - there it was - the sprinting Knight that identified us and set us apart from all of the other schools.

Rutger took the disk out and put it back in his bag while the evidence soaked in. He then came back and, although it pained him to ask, I knew he had to. "Do you know of anyone on the team - last season or upcoming - that fits the size of this guy?"

There were a handful of guys that I could think of, but all of them were my friends. Or...or were they? I scrolled through a list of faces and bodies in my head, and every one of them had never, ever said or done anything that would make me think they were capable of this. Something didn't feel right. Something didn't fit.

"They wouldn't have hurt me, officer; none of them," I assured.

Both Rutger and Ridge frowned. "We're just going by what we've found, son," the wolverine huffed.

"And we have to follow any leads we may come across," the hare said ashamedly.

With a heaviness to my heart the likes of which I'd only felt a few times before, I gave them the names of six guys that fit the build of the Shadow. If I had felt betrayed before, than I felt more of the betrayer as I watched Rutger write down the names. Each scratch he made in forming those letters sliced a wound open in my conscious, and each wound screamed backstabber, backstabber.

The fact that I myself should have been screaming the same thing didn't even come to the forefront of my mind.

When the troopers finally left they assured me everything would be alright. I didn't doubt them, but everything turning out alright for me meant that everything was going to turn out badly for someone else - someone I had possibly known since freshman year. Rutger also said that now, since the paperwork was done and could be filed, the investigation could get underway in a week or two. To my astonishment, he said that a special investigator was looking to take up the case; apparently homosexual targeted hate-crimes were his area of expertise.

So, with both good tidings and bad, I started up the stairs not really knowing what I was going to do when I reached the top.

"Ahem."

My ears flopped back as my mother beckoned me to take notice of her oh so subtly. Of course, she was not pleased by the fact that, before I'd gotten attacked, I'd hopped out of a strange vehicle with someone I'd failed to mention on more than one occasion. For the instance of romance, I guess you never know when you're being watched and recorded. I guess it's also in your best interests to enlighten your extremely protective parents of any possible plans for a relationship.

As far as I could see I was screwed more ways than one in every regard thus far.

She once again cleared her throat when I didn't turn around. "Is there something you want to tell me, young man?"

"Mom," I heard Claire whisper from down below. "Not now."

When no one else said anything I went back into my room and locked myself inside. I thought about taking a bath, but I was suddenly - and ironically - quite tired. The fact that I'd slept for nearly three days straight didn't matter. I collapsed onto my bed, and I didn't care if I slept for another couple of days. I was beat.

Again, I laughed at the irony.