FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Warning! Read this first: This contains plenty of violence, blood, gore, death and the such, as well as some homosexual themes, so if you do not like that sort of thing, do not read this. You must be eighteen or older to even be on here, so I figure you must be eighteen or older to even read this story.

Author's Note: This... took a while, for several reasons, but my main reason is that I'm lazy. I've finally wrapped up this series and am going to be working on other things. I apologize for the long wait, but it's finally over, and people can finally enjoy the story without a cliffhanger. This chapter is a bit longer than the rest, but I figured since it'd be sort of like my final little thing, I thought I'd add in a little more.

Chapter Five: The Value of Life

Part A: Vengeance

The images flashed through his head, replaying themselves over and over in a giant collage, a giant mosaic, filled with different pictures, different scenes, all moving and intertwining in his mind, flashing his memories, giving him all the more reason to move. He could not move: he was shocked into paralysis; he could just stand there, holding his friend's paw, breathing heavily, quickly. It was as if everything had just collapsed around him. Everything was getting better and better, but suddenly, everything decided to take a turn for the worse. He replayed the images in his head just as quickly as his heart raced in his chest.

He had only been here a week and two days. His past life seemed so distant: his school, his friends, his parents. Everything was gone. It had happened long ago: the humans had decided to genetically engineer furries for their own interests, labor and otherwise, only agreed by the former people that had called themselves "furries", but were rather just people. It had happened over such a long period of time, or that was what they were led to believe. Their lives, if that was what they could call them, were fake realities, all false in their own sense. They were born, but everything else was just a guise for the real fate that was predestined for them. It only happened to him last week, two days ago, where they had killed his friend, the one that he had held in his arms not too long ago, and was now holding in his paw. He glanced over at the ferret, wondering what else would happen.

It was then that he had been taken from his school, sold as a slave without training. But they did not know that. He was then owned by a small child, a boy no less, what he guessed was the age of around eight. He did not know how old he was, and he did not care; facts were facts: he was a child. He had become his pet under circumstances beyond his control, and he did not relish the moment. He kept telling himself it was for the better, but he knew it was a false hope.

He had lost friends, many friends, and he did not know where his parents were. He was only fifteen, a couple months away from his birthday. He wished desperately that he could have his old life, but it was not going to happen. He missed his home, with his odd appliances, and he missed school. He never thought he would miss it, but he did. He missed hanging out with his friends. He knew it was not going to be able to happen again, not with what had just occurred.

Only after he had been a bit intimate with his friend who he had seen die not long ago, all hell broke loose. He looked over at the ferret and tried to speak, but no words came out. He shook his head, playing over the bodies that he had seen a few minutes ago, all across the field. Many of them were riveted with holes; a few furries had been shot in front of him. He gritted his teeth, thinking about the dragon that he had become friends with. He was most likely dead now. He thought of the otter that had approached him this morning, asking about his boyfriend, who was dead for a few days. He had become so close with the otter before... and he was gone. Most likely his boyfriend, resurrected from his initial death, was to be killed again. It was a bitter mercy, nevertheless.

He could not get the blood from his visions. The furries could not fight back either: they had an odd device on their cerebellum and cerebral cortex. They could not harm the humans, but he felt different. He had been able to harm one, and he knew he could do so again, if he needed to. In other words, they were helpless, all save for him.

He furrowed his eyebrows, decided, determining what could be the best option. He hesitated to move, unable to decide whether or not his instincts telling him it was the wrong option was just a ploy to leave him helpless. He took a step to the side and immediately paused, hearing voices. He leaned a bit closer, trying to figure out exactly what was being said, straining his ears.

He recognized the first voice as Jason, and another as Derek.

Jason spoke quickly, "No, Derek, there aren't any in here. Not alive anyway, I killed the one I had in my possession."

Derek's voice was gruff, as always. "Are you sure? We're looking for Kirren. He's the most dangerous one, after all. There was something wrong with the batches, no doubt you've heard. The first shipments have all gone wrong, and the new shipments... well, the otter had been trying to, and finally managed to punch one of us. He was the first to go. This is happening all over the world, and there has been an order to kill all furries. Make sure you do so. Tell me if you find Kirren: I want to see to it that he is dead by my hands."

Jason coughed. "Well, I'll be sure to tell you if I see him. Are you sure this is necessary, though? Maybe it's only the new shipments that are the anomalies."

Derek gave a disgruntled sigh. "Where the fuck did a kid like you learn the word 'anomaly'? It doesn't matter. Facts are facts, and orders are orders: we need to kill them all. Don't leave any to live, okay?"

Jason stuttered, "O...okay. I won't."

Heavy footsteps led away. Kirren sat there, wondering what was happening. It painfully dawned on him, however, in only a matter of seconds. It was one giant systematic killing of furries! He knew that they would not leave any alive. He looked desperately for a way out, but not seeing one, he rested his head against the building. He heard a voice inside, speaking hurriedly.

"Nick, please, go into hiding! Why aren't you listening to me? You'll be killed if you don't! Quickly!" He knew that Nick was not going to listen to Jason: he had ordered him not to, no matter what the circumstances. He now knew it was a decision he would regret. He looked over at the ferret and weighed his options.

"Kael, go climb that tree and stay out of sight, okay? Do not listen to any human: just me, and yourself. Please do as I say, okay? I need you to stay alive. Please hide! I am going to see if I can at least save Nick." He pointed at a tall tree, covered in branches and leaves, creating the perfect hiding place.

The ferret looked at him, disbelieving. "Kirren, I can't leave you here! It's suicide to go out there!"

Kirren shook his head. "No, I'll be back. Now go!"

He ran off to the side before the ferret had any say. He quickly opened the door and walked in, immediately looking over at the human and the wolf crouched in the corner. Jason was crying, frantically pleading the wolf to move and to hide. "Why won't you listen to me? Please, Nick, please.... I don't want you to die! Just go into hiding, I'm sure they'll forget about you and you can come with me to some other place, okay? We'll get through this!"

Kirren walked over, stepping lightly. Apparently Jason had not heard him enter. He spoke softly, saying, "Nick, you can listen to Jason now."

The wolf's ears perked up and he immediately turned around. He looked at Jason, tears in his own eyes from the empathy he felt. He waited, sitting there, puzzlement eventually spreading across his face before sorrow and despair when he inferred the situation. Jason stared at each of the two, and he quickly took Nick by the wrists, leading him to a small space under the floor. It was well hidden, and it led to some tunnel far off. Kirren made a note of it.

Kirren walked out of the door, blinded by the sunlight. He stepped forward for a moment before moving back against the wall. It was then that he heard the cocking of a gun, and it was immediately pressed against his head. He heard a familiar voice speak up, saying, "Don't move, Kirren. Step back inside of the building slowly, hands where I can see them."

Kirren gulped, walking back into the building. He knew it was over. He immediately gave up hope, despairing, only hoping that Kael could escape. A tear rolled down from his eye, soaking into his fur as he was ordered to turn around and face the person. He stared at Jennifer, and at the gun she held in her hand. However, the expression her face surprised him.

She looked at him with concern, mixed with sorrow. She lowered the gun after she locked the door. "Kirren! What are you doing out in the open? You'll get killed!"

The wolf opened his mouth to say something, but it was interrupted by a large cacophony of gunshots, most likely from an automatic weapon, nearby. Jennifer quickly hugged him. "That could have been you! You have to hide from this place. I think if you hide for a few months things can cool down. They're especially looking for you: you hold the most potential for danger ever since they heard you stabbed that hermit."

The wolf shook his head. His fur was standing on end, rippling in an effect from the artificial wind that was emitted from the air conditioner. It was only then did he take notice of something: he had begun to see colors vividly. The situation shocked his mind to work in a different way. He shook his head, trying to figure out what was happening. He looked at a mirror on the wall, one that he had not noticed before. He stared at the wolf that stared back, noticing all the different colors and different designs his fur had. It was mainly white, being an arctic wolf as he was, but there were different splotches of grey on his fur. He stared at his eyes, noticing for once, and was surprised that they were a deep red. He turned back to Jennifer and said, "I had to make sure another furry was going to live."

Jennifer shook her head. "No, no! You have to hide! They're almost done killing all of the other furries!" Tears were falling from her eyes, dropping on her shirt and the floor. Kirren frowned and shook his head.

"I'll escape when I can." Kirren paced about, thinking, moving his arms around, swinging them almost in odd arcs, trying to figure out the next plan of action. "I don't think I can get very far anyway if I run; please understand that."

Jennifer nodded. "I'll say this to you, Kirren: you are the only furry I can truly care about. All of the other ones... they can all die, and I'm sure they already have, and I would not care. And for what is happening, I hate Dave and my aunt and uncle for what they're doing."

Kirren looked at her, puzzled. She continued, "I... I'll help you in any way I can. My family... they're still my family, you must understand. But they're monsters, and monsters deserve what they can get in punishment." She gulped midway between her statements. She stared at the floor, tears falling down her face.

Kirren was about to say something, but decided against it. An awkward silence passed, and Jennifer spoke again, walking up to him and hugging him tightly. "You're more of family to me than they are, even if you are a furry, and even if we are not related by blood. I will help you in any way I can, as I said."

The wolf stared at her and spoke softly, "Even if I kill them?"

Jennifer stared at the ground. She suddenly looked so vulnerable to him. He gave a downcast look; her eyes shadowed, and said, "I would rather it not come to that, but if it must....."

The wolf stared at Jennifer, lost in thought. Finally, he came to a decision and said, "I'll leave for a moment. There is a ferret in the tree behind me. Protect him for me, okay?"

Jennifer looked at him and nodded. Her eyes were bloodshot and she sniffed. "Okay. Be careful."

Kirren walked toward the door, saying "I'm going to see if I can find anyone else to save. I'll return soon enough."

With that, he opened the door and stepped outside. He saw a dragon furry off in the distance, being led into the large building in the center. A faint shot of hope welled up in his chest and he quickly and carefully made his way to the center, being sure to blend in with the bodies on the ground every now and then. There were so many bodies, he had no problem just lying on the ground as still as he could, pretending he was dead to elude the wandering eyes of the snipers on the roof. Many of them were gone or aiming at different areas, not paying any attention to where he was. It was tedious, but he managed to get close enough to the building without being noticed. He found the side door quickly enough and entered.

The halls were as he remembered them: ornate, grand and gaudy. Decorations hung from the wall, objects of virtu scattered around in different orders that Kirren decided not to figure out. He made his way silently, glad that he had no clothes to make rustling noises while he moved. The only thing that was capable of making noise was his collar. He tried to keep it on as long as he could; waiting until he found a weapon.

He passed by many instruments left by many people that could have been identified as virtuosi, most definitely dead now. None of the items helped him in any way. He passed giant display cases, careful to turn corners with several glances before venturing forth and getting himself shot. He found a display with many bones that seemed prehistoric. He picked a large femur bone, feeling its weight, giving it a couple smacks against his paw. He smiled softly and waited, taking his collar off and placing it on the ground. He hid off to the side, waiting. It only took a few minutes before he heard footsteps make their way toward his position.

Someone paused to inspect his collar. He snuck forward, ready, and swung heavily with the femur. He managed to hit the person in the back of the head, knocking out the person immediately if he did not kill him. Blood spurted from the person's mouth, not from a puncture in the lungs, but because the force had caused him to bite his tongue, severing the front of it. The blood pooled below his head, gathering around his face, and Kirren knew he was not going to survive. He quickly inspected the person, finding out that the person's name was Joseph. Dr. Joseph. He frowned and found no weapons of any use. He grabbed his collar and ran quickly to another hall, leaving the body behind.

He paused when he reached a hallway that he recognized. There were weapons stacked along the wall, displayed in their infinite beauty, or their infinite virility with their broad handles and sharp edges. They all seemed to be from medieval times, useless with today's technology. He grabbed a bow with a quiver of arrows. He slung them over his shoulder and grabbed a broad sword seemingly dated from the early fourteenth century, Germany. He strapped it to his back and headed into hiding, making sure no one saw him. As he rounded the corner, however, Dave stared at him from not too far of a distance: only about ten feet.

Dave's eyes betrayed his emotions, changing from relief to puzzlement, and then to fear. He ran away, horrified by Kirren, and Kirren thought it was just as well. He turned around, knowing full well that Dave was going to tell the others where he was at. He ran up a flight of stairs, and went on the outer portion of the stairs, staring directly at where he had been not too long ago. There was a thick piece of stone to lean against, and the upper part of the stairs was dark, the door shut and most likely locked.

He waited for what seemed like forever. Footsteps fell forward, each after another, in rapid succession. He knew there was more than one person on their way. He grabbed his bow and notched an arrow, aiming it at the spot where he had been before. He saw three figures walk out into the open, Dave standing next to them, crying. One of the other figures seemed to be Derek, while the other was some other employee that Kirren did not recognize. They both held what seemed like rifles. He could not tell anything else about them from his distance.

He heard the other person say, "Are you sure he was here? Maybe you were seeing things."

Dave cried even harder. "Yes! He was here! I saw him! Kill him! Kill him!"

Kirren felt a pain in his chest, feeling that he had just been stabbed. He moved his paw to grab his chest slightly, frowning in effort, and then moved his paw back to the arrow, notching it once again, aiming it at the new person. He pulled back, hearing the soft strain of the string. Once he was sure it would hit, he took another check at his aim.

The person had begun to walk toward where he was, but he let loose of the arrow. It flew quickly, striking the person in the chest, protruding from where his heart would have been. He grabbed at the arrow, staring at it in disbelief before falling on the floor, creating his own pool of blood. With the artificial light, Kirren could only stare at it, watching it glisten before moving away right in time to dodge the hail of bullets from Derek's hidden sub-machine gun.

The wolf ran up the stairs, kicking the door open. It was not, however, locked. He fell forward into it, but scrambled up. He hid off to the side, throwing his bow down the hall along with the quiver of arrows. He held his broadsword at ready, but still hidden in the darkness. The lights were not on, but he knew they would be shortly.

As if on cue, Derek ran in, turning on the lights, immediately spotting the arrows and bow. He ran toward them, Kirren following him quickly, disguising his footfalls as Derek's. He leveled the sword, the point directed at Derek. When Derek stopped, so did Kirren, who still moved slowly forward. He could hear Derek's harsh breaths, heaved in his lungs. For a moment, he seemed to pause, listening intently.

Kirren paused as well, but Derek turned around, his eyes full of surprise when the wolf thrust forward, impaling him halfway across the sword's blade, deep into his stomach. He dropped his gun and fell. He took the broadsword out and held the sub-machine gun in his other paw, putting the rifle on his back with a strap. He shrugged and headed back out of the hallway and descended the stairs.

He saw Dave when he turned the corner to where he last was. Stepping over the corpse, taking care not to track his paws into any of the blood that had pooled up, he made his way toward the child, smelling salt in the air, intermingled with blood and gunpowder. By all appearances, Dave had been crying the whole time, but when he saw Kirren heading toward him, he took on a horrified expression and darted in the other direction before the wolf could stop him.

Kirren sighed, aiming the sub-machine gun forward and holding the broadsword at ready in case anyone managed to get close. He slowly walked forward, grateful yet ungrateful at the lighting; he could see where he was going, but that also meant that others could see where they were going, and could see him. He cautiously made his way around the corner, first tilting his head around it, holding the sub-machine gun around it so as to shoot anyone that he could spot, but there was no one. In a way, it came as a relief, but he was slightly irritated that he would have to continue his search for Dave.

Step after step, he wondered if he actually needed to find him, but with each passing thought, his resolve was hardened. He furrowed his brows, took longer strides and quickened his pace. The quicker he got to do what he needed to do, the quicker he could get out of there and escape. He sniffed the air periodically, smelling salt and Dave's scent mixed in the air, swirling around, but showing a very distinct path. He followed it a bit more slowly when the smell grew stronger.

The hallways were darkened where he had been led, but there was still enough light to see. He silently made his way through, jumping at each noise, aiming his weapons at different directions, making sure not to turn his back on an area for more than two seconds. He paused at a corner, aiming at the two directions it could lead to, but he saw no one once again. He sighed softly and took a sniff at the air. The trail seemed to lead to a place not too far off. He stared at the hallway in front of him, slowly walking toward it, noticing that it did not branch off into any other paths. It was this, and this alone, with a few different doors, of course.

He took a few sniffs and identified the last one as the one Dave was hiding in. As if to prove that he was correct, he heard small sobs coming from behind the door. He walked forward, toward the door, making sure each footfall was silent. Slowly, as if time were crawling along with him, he made it at the door. The door was slightly ajar, but the lights were off, and no shadows could penetrate the darkness

Shapes swirled around in his eyes, but he knew where he was going and what he was doing. It seemed as if light came from different sources, and he could see just fine. He put the blade near the bottom of the door, off to the side, pushing it open slowly. It made no sound, but the sobbing grew louder. It echoed and reverberated in the room, blank and bleak, deserted all for one child, who sat there, filled with despair. Maturity and importance seeped from the child, and all that was left was youth, and Dave was, at that moment, bare and innocent.

Kirren placed the sub-machine gun on the ground outside of the room silently, careful to make the least noise as he could possibly make. He stood up, easing his weight upon each footfall, moving the door open slowly until he was able to see the child in full view. A flurry if emotions rushed through him as he heard the sobs clearly. Sorrow, anger, relief and pity played his mind while a smirk and a frown appeared on his face. He stood there for a moment, temporarily suspended in a state of mental torpor, but it passed just as quickly as it came. He whispered, "It'll be okay, Dave. You've done some bad things, and you have to be punished for them, but you'll be forgiven... or so it can be hoped for. Hold no grudge, for this is repentance. Be ready."

Dave looked up, and horror filled his eyes. His sobbing grew insistent, heightening in volume, becoming quite the cacophony. He tried to back away, but he did not and Kirren was slightly confused at this.

With a shrug, he moved forward, sword in hand, breath in his throat. A step forward, and a pulse in his head. Thoughts raced through his head, and he knew he could take no other path. It was clear to him, and once more, his resolve was hardened. He gripped the handle of the broadsword, took one quick step, and swung half-heartedly.

A gargled choke and he suddenly regretted his weak swing. In viewing the strike, the blade had wedged itself in the child's neck, most likely by the sound, severed an artery or vein while cutting into the throat. Kirren let go of the blade, stepped back, and frowned, observing the child's slight attempts at life, gasping for air, drowning in the scarlet fluid.

And he fell to the floor, blood flowing out like wine, but not from an everlasting glass. It stopped short of Kirren's feet. It fell into the cracks of the floor, filling it like rain into a gutter. The wolf looked at the body, saw a slightly glint, and grabbed at the object in his eye. He pulled off a crystal, tied to a string that he immediately recognized as his own.

The wolf stepped back slowly. He could almost feel the life fade from the child, and in response, he shuddered, listening to the gargling that was left behind. He closed the door slowly, silently, and walked away, sure to collect the sub-machine gun he had left by the door, and held it with both paws. A few quick steps and his mind recollected itself, the images of the bodies slowly fading. He closed his eyes with ease, took a deep breath, and decided it was time to find Leo.

He heard nothing down the halls, but he still moved slowly, creeping along the side of the wall as if there were traps in the middle of the hallway, though he had walked through them not long ago. He held the sub-machine gun pointed forward, but switched it over to the back every so often, just in case. His nerves jumped and danced about him, causing him to twitch at slight sounds cause by trees tapping the glass, as if to ask to be let in.

The smell of blood was heavy in his nostrils, and he looked at his arm. Blood had splattered from the neck of Dave, and he had not even noticed it. He rubbed it until it was slightly obscure, blending into pink on the wolf's fur. He looked around, and noticed a small room, most likely a bathroom. He took a quick, cautious glance in all directions, and dashed over to the room silently.

Upon walking in, the light automatically turned on. He jumped at it, looked around, but regained himself after a moment. He walked over the sink, putting the sub-machine gun on the top of it, noticing that his paws were shaking unevenly. He turned the water on silently, making sure it was not too loud, and began to rinse the blood of his arm. He tied the crystal back on his neck when he was finished, and left. The light was relentless, and he let it be, closing the door silently behind him.

He melded into the shadows. Everything was dark though the light of the sun streamed through the windows, red and orange, a distortion of color from the curtains that held them. The hallways seemed in perpetual twilight, and yet, he smiled at it. He felt calm, and for a moment, he felt content.

Thoughts of the dragon rushed into his head, and he quickened his pace. He wondered where the dragon would be held at this time. He sniffed around, and found no trace. He decided to head back to the start, and began to walk to the hallway in which he found his way in.

It took about half an hour to reach the door since he slowly crept along, retaining his careful figure. He had not spotted anyone, and he had not picked up the scent of the dragon. He supposed it was better that way, because then he would not have to searched for those in hiding.

He quickened is pace as he heard heavy footfalls from behind. His fur tingled, feeling pins and needles under his skin. Making sure to be careful with the corners, he quickly fled into what seemed to be the main room. He stood on the balcony, gazing down, listening closely for more footfalls. The steps were heard descending, most likely down stairs.

He took a closer look at the floor, now paying more attention with his eyes than his ears. A horrendous image invaded his sight and he felt a bit nauseous. He quickly turned his head away while it sunk into his mind.

There were bodies littered all over the floor. About every type of furry he had ever come across was there, all pink and red from the blood that was spilled. Blood splatters painted the wall, and the tile glistened under the artificial light, red dancing all around. There were a few humans there, blood on their hands and knives, some on their guns.

He took another glance, swallowing silently the bile that rose into his throat. His eye caught movement, and immediately his gaze went upon a dragon chained to a column. The dragon seemed to be unconscious, but he was breathing, if not slightly. Kirren whispered softly under his breath, "Leo...."

A loud crash was the entrance for the human that had been following Kirren. He walked out into the open, and it seemed he was just another human. He began, "Couldn't find Kirren, and now the kid is gone. Looks like Daren is done for. Fucking furries, have to make so much trouble. Guess we should take care of this one while we're here."

Kirren quickly counted the people in the room and immediately figured that he would not win. There were about seven of them. He had the advantage of not being known, but he did not know how many bullets were in his weapons or how to really use them efficiently. He decided he might as well try.

He held his breath, gulped, and held the sub-machine gun tightly. He turned heel and ran toward the stairs. Careful enough that his steps would not be heard, he traveled down the stairs as quickly as possible. From a distance, though, he heard a gunshot and a loud cry of pain.

He cursed under his breath and quickened his pace. He came up to the door, held his breath, and then let it loose in a silent sigh.

The door burst open as he had shoved it, knocking one of the humans down as he was unlucky enough to be standing in the way. The wolf immediately riddled his body with bullets, and in the momentary confusion, he shot at the others, getting another while the rest hid.

He grabbed his victim's weapon and put it in his other hand. He hid behind a column, jumping slightly when he heard the bullets bouncing off of the column he was against. He waited for the bullets to stop coming, chewed on his lip, and threw himself to the side when he heard their magazines drop.

He let loose a hail of bullets, getting one of the humans in the neck and another in waist and arm. He slid over to where the other victim was and stared right at another human, who stared back at him. They both hesitated for a moment, but Kirren brought one of the guns up and pulled the trigger.

Clicking noises signaled that it was empty, so he brought the other gun and unloaded on the person. He took a freshly loaded gun and hid behind the new column. His second victim had a pistol on his holster, so Kirren picked it up, making sure the safety was off. He moved his arm out to the side, and then quickly brought it back in while bullets sunk into the wall. He moved over to the other side, peeked over quickly and shot at where he thought the rest were.

A cry of pain gave proof that one of the bullets had hit. Various profane insults came from the humans. He counted in his head how many were left, and he figured maybe two or three. He hoped his luck would last a bit longer. He held the pistol closely, waited while the bullets came whizzing past him, and when they stopped, he ran at his enemies.

He was right, only two left. They looked at him, reloading with fear in their eyes, fumbling with the magazines. Kirren gave a shout and shot both of them, one in chest with the sub-machine gun, trailing up to get his face, and the other in the neck with his pistol.

It took only seconds before they stopped moving. Kirren looted their weapons and quickly ran over to the dragon. He whispered loudly, "Leo! Leo! Don't die!"

The dragon slowly opened his eyes, looked down at a wound in his stomach, and said, "Well, that might be a bit tough, Kirren.... Should be any moment now." He looked at the dead humans amongst the furry corpses and commented, "Nice shooting there. It really is too bad we could not meet in other circumstances."

Kirren shook his head and started to untie the dragon. "Come on, I'm getting you out of here."

The dragon blinked slowly, then said softly, "Don't worry about me; I don't really have long anyway. I can feel it. It's like my body is getting colder and colder, and I'm getting more tired. We all make mistakes, Kirren. I guess mine was to have been born a furry...."

The wolf suppressed a sob, but a tear rolled down his cheek, soaking into his fur. "Don't say that! We're going to get out of here, okay? Things will be better."

Leo sighed painfully. "Nah, I'm just going to go to sleep. I'm feeling so tired, after all.... Maybe I'll meet you in the next life. Good night, Kirren...."

With that, the dragon closed his eyes, snored once, and drifted off into the afterlife. Kirren gave a sob, rested his head on the dragon, and then looked up. He wiped the tears from his eyes, turned around, and began to walk towards the door, a bullet nearly hitting him. He quickly went behind the column, heard the bullets continue, and then clicks of an empty gun.

He walked over to the person who had shot at him, pointed the pistol at his face, and hesitated. The human had an odd expression on his face, like he was dazed. Blood seeped from his waist and his arm, and he shivered. He said to Kirren, "Well, I tried. Mind you, hurry things up. It's getting awfully cold in here...."

Kirren furrowed his eyebrows and pulled the trigger. He turned around, walked back into the corridor, and headed for the secret exit. His mind wandered back, and he almost vomited from the situation he had just been in. He had no idea how he had done it, and without getting hit. He almost regretted it after seeing his friend die, though.

He swallowed his anxiety and continued toward the exit. Just a little more and he would be out of this hell, after all. He paid attention to any steps that would echo in the corridor, but he heard none. The silence was eerie; it made his hair stand on end. He heard no voices, no steps, no arguing, and no gunshots. It most likely meant they were done killing all they could.

He reached the door with no difficulty, and upon opening it, he met a familiar face. Jennifer was there, waiting for him. She whispered, "I'll escort you. It'll be safer that way."

He nodded, noticing no sign of deceit. Her face was solemn and grief-stricken, but she looked like she could be trusted. He began to wonder why, but he figured it was for the best. They walked over to where the ferret was, hiding in the tree still. Kirren gestured for the ferret to come down, and they hid behind the building, hardly breathing, almost as if someone could hear them if they did so too loudly.

He brushed off the ferret, patted him down, and made sure he was not hurt. He embraced him shortly after, his arms holding him closely, blood staining his mind. Jennifer spoke softly, "You two should leave, or they'll find you."

Kirren nodded. "I took care of what I needed to do... all that's left is to get away from here. Will you be okay, Jen?"

Jennifer wiped tears from her face and nodded slowly. She sniffed lightly and closed her eyes, her face downcast. "I've got other family elsewhere that'll help me through this, and a name of a good therapist. I'll be fine in a few years, I'm sure, but I know that we can't take these mistakes lightly."

The wolf sighed, walked in front of Jennifer, and wrapped his arms around her. He whispered, "I'm sorry about what I've done, but it was needed. Live your life without the memories of the atrocities of today. Thank you for sparing us both."

With that, the wolf took the ferret by the arm and led him into the forest, leaving the fields behind. There was a rich smell of blood in the air, a salty, bittersweet aroma. The air in the forest seemed crisp, in a sense, colder by far. There were no sounds of weapons, any shouts or cries. He held this pistol in one hand, close to heart as if it was his savior, and in his other hand, he held Kael's.

Upon looking back, he was able to spot the scene from which they had fled. Jennifer was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she left. There was a dull, red mist near the floor. Bodies littered the ground, none moving, none living. It looked like a wasteland to him, or something pulled out of a movie.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he walked away from the bloodshed. Kael laughed beside him, commenting, "You know, I'm starting to remember things. It's really weird. You would have never said any of that stuff back there when we were back in high school. You've changed somehow...."

Kirren nodded. "I have. I don't know if it's for better or for worse, but it's keeping us alive for now, and that's what matters." The wolf walked forward a few feet before turning and looking around to see if there was anyone there to cause them harm.

The ferret shrugged. "So where are we going to go? It's not like there's any place we can go without them killing us on sight, you know."

The wolf nodded. "I guess we'll just have to survive in the wild. We're part animal, aren't we? That should be simple enough, but...." A gust blew their way, carrying with it a few unfamiliar scents. Kirren crouched down and held his pistol at ready, waiting, searching. He said softly, "Go hide in that tree. I smell someone nearby. Don't get out of the tree until either I get back, or you know it's safe."

The ferret climbed the tree, and the wolf moved off to the side. He smelled humans coming from the side, though the scent of blood was absent. Red light streaked through the leaves, creating a surreal feel in the woods, but he ignored it. The hair bristled on his back, but he ignored that, as well. He strained his ears to hear anything at all that might help him determine the location of the humans. So far, all he could hear was the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Suddenly, far off in the distance, he heard a radio. He quickly climbed one of the nearby trees and waited, listening intently. After a few minutes, he heart crunching leaves and twigs headed in his direction. He squinted in the shadows, making sure that he was concealed before trying to see who was walking his way. In his mind, he began to regret staying so close to their origin of captivity. His breaths came slowly, he calmed himself down, and closed his eyes, making sure he could hear how many people were on the ground and where they were.

After a moment, he determined that there were two individuals on the ground, nearing his tree. He readied his pistol, peered from the branches, and noticed that they only had body armor. He figured he would have to aim for the head, or to be quick about firing extra shots. He held his gun at ready, aiming for the person on the left. The trigger gave little opposition as he began to squeeze it. Every sound seemed to be intensified as he narrowed in for the kill.

The first shot rang out, immediately killing the person on the left. The other quickly pulled out his radio and said, "Shit! He's here! He's behind the cabin! Send back up quickly!" After doing that, the guy with the radio took out his rifle and began looking around, breathing quickly and roughly. Kirren was already on the ground by then, sneaking up from the side, aiming especially carefully at the head.

Another shot fired, and the second person was dead. He quickly pulled off the two vests and took the rifles. He discarded the pistol, figuring it would be empty by now. He put on one vest, quickly called the ferret over, and gave the other vest to him. He dragged the ferret over to the cabin, explaining on the way over, "Put on this vest. They know we're here. I'm going to see if we can use that tunnel in the cabin, if they haven't found it yet."

He hid behind the corner, checked to see if there was anyone watching, and as soon as he determined no one was there, he moved in with Kael. The hatch on the underground tunnel was difficult to locate, but he remembered where it was and quickly opened it. Kael went in first, and the wolf followed.

Kirren looked at the hatch, and slowly closed it, careful not to make any noises. As the hatch closed, the light coming in narrowed, slowly turning into just a line, and finally, darkness. For a moment, Kirren held his breath, feeling slight claustrophobic, but he decided that this might be their only chance. He turned around, and stepped forward, toward the light in the distance.

Part B: Escape

The sound of water could be heard far ahead. It came in soft drips against the rocks, light at first, but piercing in the silence. Soft footsteps could be heard moving toward one of the several lights that kept the tunnel's existence in check. The wolf smelled the air. For once, it did not smell like blood, and instead, smelled of moss and water. Upon reaching the light, he found a ferret, standing there, waiting.

"Come on, Kael. We need to move," Kirren said. The ferret nodded, and the wolf led the way, constantly checking behind him to see if there was anyone following them. So far there was no sign of anyone being there, but he kept checking in case he missed something. Further along the tunnel, he began to hear breathing and sobbing. Cautiously, he approached the sound. He found the origin, under one of the lights.

He spied a familiar wolf being held by a person he recognized as Jason. Kirren paused for a moment, pointed the rifle low, and said, "Why haven't you two escaped yet?" The other two stayed silent for a moment, but slowly, Jason stood up.

"This tunnel leads to the forest. We figured that if we stayed here long enough, we could hide and nothing would happen. Not many people know about it and the door is well hidden. Besides, once things die down, things should be easier for us to integrate back into society, right?" Jason had tears in his eyes as he said this. He held Nick close to him, stroking his cheek fur softly. Kirren shook his head.

The wolf grabbed the ferret's paw and walked passed the two figures. He said while he passed, "It isn't safe. We need to escape while we can. We'll die if we stay here, so I suggest you do the same. They'll kill you if you stay with Nick, you know that, don't you?"

Jason shook his head. "I won't leave Nick behind, Kirren, even if they do find this place, which they won't! I believe we're the only ones that really know about this place, aside from Jennifer, and I don't think she'd come down here. No, we're going to stay here. You can go on ahead if you want, but you'll probably get shot if you do."

The wolf perked his ears to a sound off in the distance. He quickly pulled the ferret along and said, "They're in the cabin! We better get moving or they're going to catch us!" Kirren dashed along, making sure to avoid many of the lights to avoid being seen in case there was anyone in hiding. A few hundred feet further in the tunnel, he could no longer see any lights in front of him, and as he turned around, he could not make out Jason and Nick, but he knew they were there.

Kirren walked forward slowly, his paw in front of him so he did not crash into a wall, and he was lucky that he did this. A wall came up not much further, and he looked off to the right. There were several more lights littering the cavern, these significantly brighter and more frequent. He dragged the ferret along, hoping that they did not find the trap door.

Further down, Kirren heard a few shouts from behind, followed by a barrage of gunshots. Fear began to consume him, and he ran faster, still holding the ferret by the paw, gripping as tightly as he could. He paid no attention to whether or not he was in the light, all he wanted to do was get out of the cave. A few more turns and they were face to face with a dead end. He looked around for any sign of a hatch or opening, but he found none. Despair sank in and his breathing became erratic.

He whispered softly and quickly, "God damnit! I think we've reached the end, but I don't see the door anywhere!" He quickly took the ferret by the paws and looked him in the face. "I'm sorry, Kael, I think this is as far as we're going. I thought this was supposed to go to the forest! At least there we could stand a chance in the trees or something."

Kael looked back with an odd expression. "There was a fork at the last turn. You took the wrong path, I guess." He started walking back toward the turn, but Kirren grabbed him by the arm.

"Be careful. They're aiming to gun us down, remember? We can't just wander into a path without knowing if anyone is there waiting for us or something. Here, I'll check it out." He walked over to the corner and sat there, listening closely to see if he could hear footsteps. Only a few footfalls could be heard far off in the distance, so he signaled the ferret to follow, and they took the other path.

This path seemed narrow, and if anyone found out they were there, it would be easy to gun them both down. Kirren began to run silently, making sure to keep the ferret close to him. His breathing was harsh and shallow, but he carried on, paying attention to every sound from behind them, searching frantically for a light of any kind.

He felt a sudden chill. He slowed down and caught his breath and looked around. The path had widened considerably, and his sense of smell was overwhelmed with the scent of soil. Water could be heard dripping in what he guessed was an underwater cavern. He looked around for an opening, a path that would lead them outside, and he found but one. Quickly, he dragged Kael along, heading up what seemed like a spiral staircase.

As they walked up it, he noticed the walls began to turn from dirt to stone, moss all across, making the surroundings slippery. Things began to get warmer, and he saw a faint sign of light in the distance. Hope slowly seeped into his mind. He strapped the rifles to his front and picked the ferret up, placing him on his back, and ran quickly up the stairs, slipping every so often, but never losing his balance.

The scenery changed from that of darkness to that of light. Trees surrounded them, as well as a few stones on the ground, removed from what he believed to be ruins of some sort. He felt the wind through his fur, making him shiver slightly. He went behind the entrance and noticed there was a stone wall made of bricks that they could hide behind.

Kirren instructed the ferret to climb the tree behind them. He held his rifle at ready, standing behind the brick wall. He removed one of the bricks easily, since whatever they had used to cement the bricks together seemed to expired. He put the rifle through the hole, and moved another brick slightly above it. He placed it at an angle so that he could see as well as fire when he saw something.

He could see the stairs spiraling down into darkness, and he waited. He heard birds chirping overhead, the trees rustling in the wind, distant sounds of animal calls. He smelled grass, soil, sweat and musk. He waited as the sun seemed to dance through the leaves, cascading on the scene. In another time, he would have called it a peaceful place, and he would have loved to have been there, but at this time and moment, he knew it was going to be spoiled. It was only a matter of time.

Minutes went by and he wondered if they should have continued running, instead. The minutes, the seconds, all were precious to him since he had seen so much valuable time and lives go to waste lately. All those years, those hours, those seconds, those days... all were wasted. So much potential, and yet they were all thrown away as if they held absolutely no worth. He gritted his teeth and waited.

He heard a radio from the distance below him. He held his breath for the moment, listening intently, but he did not hear it again. Instead, he heard footsteps carefully placed, one after another, heading upward. They seemed slow, and soon, he heard breathing. He guessed the person walking was afraid of falling down the stairs. He heard a whisper, and soon he saw a head pop up.

"Ugh... I hate chasing after this guy. The rest are back at HQ while I have to run after I stray dog and his pet. Why the hell did I pick this job? And fuck those stairs. At least I got that other guy and his pet...." Kirren gripped the trigger, waiting for the right time to pull it. The words confirmed that no one else was there. They also confirmed that Rick and Jason were gone now. Slowly, the form took shape in front of him, shielding itself from the sun and light.

Kirren's tail waved slowly behind him as he slowly began to squeeze the trigger. Time seemed to slow down as he fired. He saw the bullets in slow motion, moving through the air in a surreal sort of sense. The air moved in ripples in their wake, the little blobs of metal. He saw the person turn slowly, but he knew it was too late. The look of horror and shock was finally apparent to Kirren as he saw the human turn. The wolf lowered his tail.

The body fell to the floor, but he heard the human gasp for air. A shower of bullets riddled the side of the wall and moved their way upward. They grazed the hole that the wolf looked through, but he had already moved out of it and was heading toward the side.

"Shit... he got me...." The human reached for his radio, but could not get to it. It had fallen off after the wolf had shot him. He emptied his magazine into the wall, hoping to get Kirren, but heard nothing. After a moment, he said, "Looks like... looks like you won for... for now, wolf. B-but, they'll get... you when they find you. And believe me... they'll... find... you...." With that, the life was gone.

Kirren bit his lip gently and gestured for the ferret to come back. When Kael was next to him, he said, "I would've never have done that back in school, either. But this is our survival, Kael. We have to do what we have to do in order to survive. We can only trust ourselves at this point."

The ferret nodded. "I'll stick with you until the end, Kirren."

The wolf sighed. "I wish we had our old lives back, Kael. They were so much more peaceful than this, and we were so much more innocent. Anyway, let's go. No sense in standing here and waiting for them to catch up. If we keep moving, they won't be able to find us." He shoved the bricks into the entrance of the tunnel.

The entrance collapsed, leaving a pile of bricks. He dumped whatever else he could find on the pile to make sure that it would not open, but he was not so certain. He looked at Kael and tried to smile, but he could not. Not after all that he had been through. Kael, though, smiled back, which set Kirren's mind at ease momentarily.

Together, they wandered north through the forest. Everything seemed calm and quiet, almost as if nature had not been touched in this part of the forest. Kirren did not smell any humans anywhere in this part of the forest, no matter how hard he tried to. He could not hear any radios or electricity, and he saw no sign of civilization. The sun had begun to sink, and whatever they could see in the sky began to turn orange. They wandered around for another hour before the wolf stopped.

He gathered several branches and leaves and placed them in what he believed was a good spot. He crouched down and began to dig a hole, spreading the dirt so that it did not seem as if the ground had been dug. He made the pit only semi-deep, but large enough that the two of them could lie in it. He told Kael to crawl inside first, and he covered Kael with a branch and several armfuls of leaves, enough to make it seem like the pit was not there.

He climbed in next, carefully to make sure that he did not disturb the actual disguise. He held the ferret closely and whispered, "We'll continue in morning. Until then, we'll hide here and sleep tonight. There's no point in going at night since they've got night vision and we've got degraded eyes."

Kael nodded and licked the wolf on the nose. Kirren smiled at this briefly and licked him back. The ferret said, "I wish we had our old life back, too, but I would've missed being so close to you, even in our situation."

The wolf's heart pounded roughly for a brief moment, but he said, "Shh, just get some rest. We're going to need it tomorrow." When the ferret closed his eyes, so did the wolf. He whispered very softly so that only the ferret and the wind could hear, "I love you, Kael."

Even though the wolf tried to sleep, it was difficult to do. His ears were constantly straining, listening for anything in the distance, but he figured since no one was to be there, he would be safe. He took a deep breath and waited for sleep to envelope him. The ferret was already breathing heavily, so he figured that he was already fast asleep.

He held him closely and tears slowly began to fall from his eyes. He blinked them away, but they kept coming, and he wished they would stop. He reviewed and reminisced, and it all brought him pain. If only he had a chance to go back with the knowledge he knew now of the ferret, he would have loved to have shared a life with him. He realized that he had wasted so much in his old life.

He had many opportunities to be happy with someone close to him, and yet he never took the chance. Not because he was scared or hesitant, but because he did not know of the situation or the outcome. With that, he did not bother with even trying. He wanted someone to find him or something in a fantasy to happen, but he knew that would never happen. And now that he was in the pit with Kael, he knew that he found someone that was beside him the whole time, and yet he did not notice how important he was.

Tears soaked into his fur and dripped into the ferret's. He whispered to the ferret, though he knew the ferret could not hear him, "We'll make it through this, Kael. Then we can live happily with a life that we can call our own. We don't need the old life, we can make a new one for ourselves."

The ferret's arms pulled Kirren closer even though the ferret was asleep. The wolf smiled and drifted to sleep, the sun finally gone, the moon finally watching over them.

--

The sun woke the ferret up quickly. It was at just the correct angle that it cast a beam right into his eye. With a groggy groan, he opened his eyes, moved his head away from the beam, and noticed Kirren was not there. Kael looked around, but no sign of the wolf in the pit, so he assumed he had gone to do something else. Kael did not know whether or not he should get out of the pit, so he stayed there until it was safe.

Shortly after, the covering to the pit moved, and a familiar wolf let in more sun. Kael climbed out and shook the leaves off him. The wolf buried the carcass of a rabbit, already mostly eaten, off to the side. The ferret slowly asked, "Did you... eat that?"

Kirren nodded. "Yeah. I was hungry, and it's not like they've got fast food restaurants around here to give you food... no, you have to find your own uh... fast food. You better find something to eat as well. We have a long day ahead of us."

Kael shook his head. "I'm not hungry. I haven't been for a long while." The wolf shrugged.

"Are you sure? If you don't want to eat, I guess we have to leave. Every second counts." After a moment, the ferret walked forward. Kirren took it as a signal and moved north, Kael close behind. The sun was as it was yesterday, glaring in its brilliance, and yet hampered by the leaves and foliage that surrounded them above like clouds. The woods were not very thick in this part, but it was still enough that you could not see fifty feet in front of the origin.

Birds chirped above, singing their soft songs in chorus with one another. The wind, though scattered, blew leaves around trees, creating small tornados every so often. Kirren smelled something familiar, but he could not recognize it at the time. He shrugged it off, but it bothered him endlessly.

He continued walking forward, but closed his eyes for a moment. The wind moved through his fur. It felt like a gentle hand petting him, and it soothed him temporarily. He sniffed the air and pictured himself in a large meadow, grass everywhere, a singular tree offering them shade, the wind caressing them the whole while. He sniffed the air one more time and smelled the familiar scent again, stronger, but he still could not remember what it was.

He opened his eyes and dodged a tree. He figured he should not walk through a forest with his eyes closed if not for the pure fact that there were several obstacles in his way. What seemed like a few hundred more feet felt like a few minutes to him. He sniffed the air, and the scent was there once again. He jumped at a sudden noise.

"Do you smell that?" the ferret asked. Kirren calmed down and nodded. "I've smelled it before, but I can't figure out what it is. It smells... sweet and bitter, and a bit musky. Do you think it could be people?"

The wolf whispered and led on. "I don't know, Kael. It very well could be. We have to be careful. I smelled the same scent a long way back, but I still don't know what it is." They carried on quickly but carefully. Kirren kept glancing from side to side, looking for any sign of any danger that would present itself, but he found none, which comforted him.

The trees began to become less frequent. The wolf figured they were on the side of the forest, but he did not know what he should do. If they left the forest, they would surely be found. Kirren weight his options and took a quick right, dragging the ferret along quickly.

The trees began to thicken again. There was plenty of cover for now, he thought. He stared at the floor for a moment, noticing no tracks large enough to be considered human. Relief spread over him and he was overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment and victory. He lessened his grip on the ferret's paw, but still held it. He smiled.

"I think we're safe for now. We still need to keep moving, but for now, we don't need to worry." The ferret nodded and walked forward willingly. With a sigh, Kirren slowed his pace to that of a leisurely walk. He watched a squirrel dash up a tree, a rabbit move off to the side, into a bush.

Kirren sat next to a tree and gestured for the ferret to sit next to him. "How could our lives have changed so drastically in the past couple of weeks?"

The ferret shook his head. "It was all fake, though. We don't have any souls, we're test tube subjects. We don't know how much of that was real or how much was just put in our heads. We don't even know how old we really are."

The wolf looked at his paws. "I don't think that's true. I mean, these feelings can't be fake, can they? Our time we spent together, all these experience, certainly they're not all manufactured? When I'm scared, I'm scared. When I'm angry, I'm angry. If we had no feelings, how could those exist?"

Kael shrugged. "I don't know, Kirren. Maybe you're different from the rest of us somehow." The ferret chuckled. "You never were the ordinary one, you know."

A leaf fell on Kirren's nose. He shook his head and the leaf fluttered off onto the ground. "Maybe. Still, I don't think we could have made it this far if they programmed us to do what we were told, to act on what we remembered, which they created, as well. No, I think these memories are real, Kael. I think these feelings are, as well. I believe we have a soul. When we're sad, we cry, like anyone else. We may just look a bit different than them, but it's who we are, right?"

The wolf looked over at the ferret and realized he was sleeping. He figured it was for the best, so he sat there against the tree, thinking about what had happened.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see were bullets ricocheting around, people crying in pain, furs littering the floor, blood everywhere. In only the couple of seconds of closing his eyes, images of all his friends back in captivity flashed by. Otters, dragons, foxes, huskies, wolves... more and more images flashed by in that instant as if he were watching a slideshow on hyper speed.

He opened his eyes and stared at the tree in front of them. He finally came to the realization that they could possibly have been the last two left on the world. In an instant, he felt very alone, so he pulled the ferret closer and held him. The world suddenly seemed so large to him. The trees looked like they were moving away, his body urging him to reach for them, but he stayed still. He felt so small.

He shook off the feeling, but it bothered him. A gust of wind brought the familiar scent he had noticed several times before. He shivered, feeling slightly cold. He buried his feet under the leaves, already feeling slightly warmer. He wished had some clothes to put on to keep him warm, and wondered why he was feeling so cold all of a sudden. He had not had any problems in the night where it would be even colder, but now....

His shivering woke the ferret, who looked at him quizzically. He shook his head and petted him. "It's nothing. Just got a chill, is all." The ferret rested on him, placing his arms around the wolf.

They sat there for what seemed like hours. Leaves had collected on them, creating a sort of blanket. Kirren yawned and squinted his eyes, looking toward the sun. He concluded that he enjoyed sitting there with his friend. He looked at his paws and then at whatever part of his body that was not covered by leaves or the body armor he had taken and saw the same white-grey fur as he had always seen, though with color now. His mind flashed to the time he first saw his eyes, the deep, blood-red color they were. He had not seen anyone with those eyes before, so he figured it was an oddity.

He stared at the leaves and hummed a tune to himself softly. Childhood memories popped into his head, and he began to wonder if they were real thoughts, or just fake ones that were placed in his head to make it seem like he had a past. He shook his head, heart sinking at the thought, and decided not to think about it anymore. Instead, he pulled out the rifles and made sure they were loaded. He placed them beside him and looked at the ferret, petting him gently.

He thought back to the days when they could relax. A slight whisper escaped his lip, "How long as it been? Only a couple weeks at most, right? How can everything turn to this in such a short time?" He stared at the treetops, whichever ones he could see, and let his mind flood with images and memories, all of which he could not figure were real or fake.

A couple of hours later and the ferret stirred. Kirren picked up the rifles and said, "Let's go. We can't sit in one place so close to where we were last spotted and expect to not be found. Maybe we'll find something." He stood up and walked forward a few feet before turning around, noticing that the ferret was still sitting.

Kael smiled and said, "My legs are asleep. Think you could give them a couple minutes?" The wolf nodded stood his ground. He kept a constant watch on the surroundings, making sure no one was about, but he could not smell any humans, much less see them. Still, something was giving him a tingly feeling in the back of his neck.

When the ferret was finally ready to go, Kirren took him by the paw and led him off toward what he figured was north. The trees became skinny in certain parts, and gradually, the scenery turned into that of a thicket. The wolf whispered to himself, "What the hell is this doing here? I thought the trees would be thicker here."

The bushes became thick, and soon Kirren had to walk through them, followed closely by the ferret. His paws grabbed branches and leaves, all bundled together, and moved them aside. After being moved aside, they revealed more bushes and shrubs. The wolf felt this was more of a wall than a thicket, but finally things began to clear. He reached his arm forward and grabbed air, so he moved it off to the right and found a small clearing.

After walking through, he heard a crash behind him. He quickly looked behind him, pointing the rifle forward, but he found nothing. He looked around for a moment, wondering where the ferret was, until he heard a small rustle from below. He looked down and saw the ferret, who picked himself up.

"I tripped over a root," the ferret explained. "Where are we, anyway?" The wolf shrugged at the question, and the two walked into the clearing. The trees were skinny and but few, and the air smelled crisp and clean. Water could be heard nearby, and they immediately found the source. A large pond filled most of the empty space, grass and moss surrounding it, fish swimming in it. A squirrel scurried up a tree at the sight of them.

Kirren looked around. They were enclosed in shrubbery and trees. The place seemed quiet, peaceful, and secret. He felt a twinge of guilt upon stepping in and ruining the peaceful surroundings, but he cast it off. He pulled the ferret over and they sat next to the lake. He sniffed the water and took a drink of it.

It tasted slightly salty, but he was okay with it. It was better than none, so he thought. The ferret drank a little, but not much because of the salty taste. Kael shuddered visibly, and he wiped his tongue on his fur a bit.

Kirren gazed at the pond and felt an odd sense of familiarity. He shook his head and put it in the back of his mind. Instead, he set down the rifles once more, put their safety on, and laid on the ground. The sound of birds chirping overhead gave him a peaceful feeling. "I don't think they'll find us here, Kael. They probably don't even know it exists."

The sun could be seen overhead, still on its rise. Clouds passed by occasionally, giving them shade every so often. Frequently, a plane passed by, one that seemed to belong to the army. Kirren frowned at the thought that the others had been eradicated, but he knew he had to focus on their survival.

Kael laughed nearby. He was playing with a squirrel that had scurried down, bring a few walnuts with it. He said, "Hey Kirren, look at this! This little fellow wanted to share his nuts with us!" He snickered at the last part.

The wolf smiled as he turned on his side and watched. The ferret soon had the squirrel running around on him, jumping off shortly after to retrieve the nuts it had almost forgotten on the ground. It gave off angry noises, as if the ferret had attempted to steal the nuts. It quickly took them up the tree, and ironically, threw its prized possessions at the ferret.

The ferret shielded himself from the barrage with his arms. The walnuts bounced off without detriment, and he picked them up, examining them. A frown manifested as he held the walnuts in his paws, staring at them lightly. A gentle breeze and his frown turned to that of a smile. He walked over to the tree and climbed it, holding the nuts in one paw. Once he had reached the squirrel, who just stared at him angrily, he surrendered the walnuts. The squirrel grabbed them, made a few squeaks, and dashed past him, into the tree.

The ferret sat on the branch, swinging his legs in the air, smiling down at the wolf, who looked back up with a smile. A few leaves fell from the tree onto the wolf, covering part of his fur on his stomach and chest. Shortly after, the wind blew them off, pushing them onto the ground, which were once again picked up in a miniature tornado.

Slowly, the ferret climbed down off of the tree. He walked over to the wolf and kneeled down, placing his paws on the wolf's chest, rubbing it softly. "This place is nice. Do you think we could stay here?"

Kirren nodded. "I don't see why not. It seems fairly out of the way, doesn't it? I don't think we'd easily be found here. The animals seem friend enough, at least, and they don't seem bothered by anything, so I don't think any soldiers would ruin the area." The wolf thumped his tail on the ground lightly and smiled into the sunlight. His grey fur caught the sun and he glowed softly in contrast with the grass.

For a moment, the surroundings seemed surreal. Kirren closed his eyes and placed his paw on the ferret's, squeezing it softly. He took a deep breath and let it through his nose audibly, a low rumble in his chest escaping into the air. He murred softly to no one in particular, and his senses peaked.

The wind created whistles and whispers through the trees. Birds chirped their songs, rustles signaled that animals were nearby, scrounging for one thing or another. The grass gently massaged the surroundings in waves. Ripples in the water seemed to beckon all else to approach.

The ground was cool under the wolf's fur. He could feel the slightly moist earth holding him up. The smell of soil was strong, such a sweet smell. He opened his eyes again, but closed them quickly. The light shined directly into his eyes so that it hurt, but he slowly opened them, taking in a little light, allowing his eyes to adjust to the brightness. The air had a hint of salt in it, most likely from the moss and pond. He smelled the ferret nearby.

The air brushed against his fur, making it ripple in waves like the grass. He sighed loudly and let his tongue loll out. A butterfly flew by, and he noticed the vivid patterns and colors they had for the first time. He had always seen them in black and white before, but now everything was so bright and colorful. He wondered how he had gone without color for so long, but he figured he did not really need it. Who needed color if one could see perfectly fine?

He shrugged at the thought and threw it away. What good were any senses? They only enhanced the truth of the matter if they were even used. To be without any senses, he thought, would be bliss. There would be no worries in the world, since there would be no pain, and death would not be so scary. Death could not be seen, then, or even heard, felt, tasted, or otherwise. Death would be peaceful.

Death, he figured, was already a necessity. If no one ever died, everyone would die. It was inevitable, and he finally realized that the many deaths that happened only a couple days ago were necessary for his survival. Nature worked along with him, and he had to kill in order to survive, just like anyone else. If he did not kill, he could not eat or even have the chance at freedom.

Kirren stood up and looked at the pond. The water shined with the reflection of the sun, the ripples making it seem like the lights were dancing. A fish disturbed the surface by eating a bug that was on the water. A large cloud passed by and blocked out the sun, and they were granted shade for the time being. The fish hid behind the rocks, a few still swimming around amiably.

A rabbit hopped out into the clearing. Its ears twitched momentarily and it chewed at the air, wiggling its nose. It hopped a few feet outward before a stray stream of light fell on Kirren. It illuminated his red eyes momentarily before moving down his body, to his chest, his stomach, and stopping at one of his legs. He moved out of the ray of light and the rabbit scurried back into the bushes. He sighed in response.

Kael laughed and walked over. "Bit scary, aren't you, wolf? Especially to a little bunny like that." He patted the wolf on the back.

The wolf frowned and lowered his ears. "I'm scary...?"

The ferret shook his head quickly. "I was just kidding! A big cuddly wolf like you, scary? Hah! It's laughable... well, I already laughed. That rabbit was probably just scared of everything that he didn't recognize from before."

Kirren gave a slight smile. "Yeah, I guess so." He looked at the sky, the clouds beginning to reveal the sun. A few birds flew by and into the trees, chirping as they went. He watched them dance around on the branches, singing their little songs, tiny melodies that echoed through the day.

When the sun was unveiled, a tiny glint made itself apparent to the corner of Kirren's eye. His attention was immediately averted, and he stared at the glint. It came from one of the branches on the trees nearby. Warning and caution sank into the wolf as he walked toward the tree. He climbed it, chunks of bark falling off as he grasped the wooden pole, and finally made his way to the branch. A moment later, he found the object that he had seen, causing him to have a sudden sinking feeling.

A camera had been sitting on the tree the whole time. He could faintly hear its motors, focusing on the environment, on Kirren, on Kael. He looked at the camera, unable to process what he had found, until he noticed a wire coming out of it, stapled to the tree, running down into the grass. A quick realization and he was on the ground in seconds after tearing the camera off of the branch. He tossed it over to the ferret, and then quickly ran over to where they had entered the clearing.

"You tripper over here, didn't you? It was on a branch, right, or a root or something? Where was it?" Kirren inquired. The ferret walked over calmly and pointed out where the root was, and Kirren immediately dug into the ground to find it. Out he pulled a wire, causing a large amount of dread to be felt. The wolf's breaths came out coarse as he held the wire. He gave it a tug, harder and harder, until it finally snapped from a tree nearby. The wire coiled on the ground like a viper, the copper jutting out from the broken part like a tongue.

"We need to leave, Kael. We've sat around for too long, and they probably know we're here. I can't believe I didn't see that camera when we came here!" The wolf gritted his teeth, bit his lip, and walked toward the pond. He picked up the camera along the way, looked at it, and tossed it in the water, disturbing the tranquil scene that it originally displayed.

Kirren ran toward the northern part of clearing and parted the shrubs and bushes. He walked through, gesturing for the ferret to grab the rifles and come along. Moving forward through the thicket, the wolf had his arms out, feeling to see if anything was in the way, but all he could feel were sticks, leaves, and the occasional squirrel. He stumbled over roots every so often, but he never lost his balance.

Close behind him, the ferret carried the rifles close to him. He frowned at leaving the peace and quiet of the clearing, but he guessed it was for the best. He followed Kirren the best he could manage, but he was getting tired and slowly losing his breath. The bushes kept hitting him with their branches, but he paid little attention to them.

Only a minute later did Kirren run into a large obstruction. He rubbed his nose and looked at what he had hit. A large brick wall stood before them, trailing off into the distance to the left and right. A slight breeze brought that familiar scent to the wolf's nose and it flooded his sense of smell. He sneezed and quickly decided to head to the right.

The thicket was gone. The trees were few, the sun shone above them, glaring it seemed. Kirren looked around carefully, listening intently to his surroundings. When he determined there was nothing there, he moved forward, his grip on the ferret's paw tight. Only a few yards forward his feet fell upon concrete and all was oddly quiet. He looked around and whispered, "What the hell is going on?"

A quick tug made Kirren stop. He turned around and looked at the ferret who had his gaze off to the side. "What's wrong?"

Kael paused for a moment before responding, "Doesn't this place seem familiar to you?" The wolf followed the ferret's gaze which fell upon a tunnel near a clearing. A breeze came from it, giving off a heady scent that seemed so very familiar. A bird chirped nearby, singing a peaceful melody.

Kirren nodded and pulled Kael along. "You're right, it does seem familiar, but this is no time to be stopping." He walked over to the tunnel, paused, looked inside, and walked forward. Everything seemed calm and still. The breeze no longer came and the only thing that moved was the clouds overhead. The grass and trees contrasted with the cold, grey concrete and the red bricks that made the wall in front of them. The black that was the tunnel seemed to tell them to turn away, so foreboding.

The wolf slowly walked into the tunnel and into the darkness. He looked back at the ferret, who just stood there, waiting. He gestured for the ferret to come into the tunnel, but the ferret hesitated, confusing the wolf.

Kael seemed to bite his lip. He stood there with furrowed brows only for a moment before turning his gaze downcast as he spoke. "I hear it. It sounds like--" His words were cut short.

Nearby, a gunshot rang into the sky, causing the wolf to jump. He stared over at the ferret who had gone silent. Dread sank into the wolf when he noticed a hole on the ferret's side, a red fluid flowing out freely. He ran forward and cried out in anguish, "Kael!"

Before the ferret could fall, the wolf caught him in his arms. A cough spouted blood from Kael's mouth, but he tried to smile. "It doesn't even hurt." Before the wolf could say something, he shook his head and said, "You need to get away from here! The gunner is probably still nearby." Tears fell out slowly from the ferret's eyes, and he blinked them away, fumbling with the straps of the rifles, placing them on the ground when he could.

"I heard you, Kirren. I did. That's what it sounded like." The ferret closed his eyes and coughed up more blood.

"Kael, stay with me!" The wolf shook him slightly, holding him close to his body, tears freely flowing from his eyes in torrents that soaked into his fur. "I'll get you out of here and we'll get you patched up and you'll be better, okay?" He began to drag the ferret into the tunnel.

The ferret coughed loudly and more blood oozed from his mouth. He patted the vest he had been wearing and laughed. "Looks like it didn't even help." He waved his paw weakly, and Kirren stopped dragging him. "Just leave me here. You need to survive, so get going. Take the rifles with you.... I'm happy that I was able to be with you this far, Kirren. We're so close, you know? To home. I remember that smell now. It's home."

Kirren gave a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

The ferret smiled softly. "I love... you, Kirren...." With those words, the ferret gave a shudder and exhaled deeply. Kirren backed away, keeping his sobs as silent as he could. He picked up the rifles and took his friend's last wish to heart. He walked away.

The ferret opened his eyes once more and whispered, "Goodbye, wolfy...."

Part C: Sanctuary

The tunnel was dark. There were few lights scattered about in the forms of bulbs, but only a small amount. The artificial light seemed so familiar to Kirren now. He wiped tears away from his cheek, but they kept coming. Every so often he glanced behind him, making sure there was no one following, and yet he hoped that he would see the ferret limping behind him, following.

He cursed under his breath and choked on his words between sobs. Memories of the ordeals that had passed swirled in his head, making him slightly dizzy. A light came up ahead, brighter than the others for some reason.

Kirren collapsed under the light. He held the rifles closely and stared at his paws. His vision often became blurry, but he blinked away the tears. He wanted so badly to head back for the ferret, but he knew he had to go on. He felt torn with each step he took, so he figured he would sit down for the moment.

His fur had become pink in patches. He smelled the pink areas and sobbed each time, the familiarity of the scent overwhelming his senses, flooding his mind with memories of the ferret he had just left behind. He licked one of the patches and cried out in sorrow, whimpers and whines escaping from his maw all the while.

A few minutes went by, but it felt like hours to him. The light flickered above, giving a slight buzz and hum as it struggled to stay on. Further down the tunnel, Kirren could hear a wire flailing about, sparks dancing around on the floor. The wolf picked himself up and held the rifles loosely. He did not feel like carrying them anymore.

He heard footsteps in the distance. The footfalls were those of shoes against the cement, echoing throughout the tunnel. Kirren quickened his pace immediately in the opposite direction. For a moment, he stopped, turned around, and anger began to fill him, but as if the one in the tunnel had known, a shot rang out and ricocheted on the wall. The wolf, however, while walking as far away as he could, turned his head to see if he could catch a glimpse of the follower, but every time he looked, the one in the back stopped before reaching a light.

The end of the tunnel was shortly in sight. Kirren made a run for the light and as soon as he was out, he dodged into a bush nearby. He continued to run further, looking for a place to hide and finally found a building to hide behind. He held the rifle at ready, aiming toward the entrance, holding his breath at intervals that he felt the follower would come out, but no one came. After what felt like an hour, he moved away from the spot and examined his surroundings.

He was surrounded by buildings with yards and fences. All he could see were houses and belongings of families that he guessed no longer lived there. He took a few steps out into a street and read a sign nearby. A gust of wind blew, carrying a heavy scent that he now could identify. He finally knew what the ferret had meant that they were so close to home.

A strong urge to move overcame him, and he walked off to the side. A bullet came whizzing by, hitting the street sign with a loud pang. Kirren quickly ran down the street, away from the origin of the bullet.

When he was certain he was far enough away, he checked his surroundings again. There were more houses, a few of them he recognized as his friends'. He stopped in front of one of them and peered inside. It was empty, still, and silent. Dust seemed to coat the place. He tried the handle of the door and found it was unlocked. He stepped inside and sniffed around, taking in the old smells of cooked dinners from the kitchen and fires in the living room. He walked up the stairs to a door he had been through so many times before. Everything looked as if it had not been touched for a while. Kirren sat on a chair he had remembered sitting on so many times before, playing games on a television that seemed all too dusty to see now. He was surprised nothing was stolen, but then again, there was no one left to steal anything. This community was mainly just furries, and all the furries were gone now.

Still, he wondered why the humans had not pillaged the place yet. He figured once they worked out the bugs, they would just remake the furries and place them into these houses to go on with their fake lives before they would just sell them back into slavery. He gritted his teeth at the thought, felt a rage build up, and knocked over a chair. It tumbled over and came to rest near the window. Kirren walked toward it and peered outside, immediately noticing that the other houses had their doors opened.

Quickly, he ran down the stairs only to bump into the person that had been following him. Slightly dazed, he moved off to the side, staring at the person, examining him quickly. He figured that they were the same height, that the person was fairly young, with short brown hair. He seemed to be Caucasian, but Kirren could not guess since there seemed to be something else mixed in. However, his eyes stopped when he noticed the person's eyes were a deep red which pierced as the person turned to look back at him with a smile.

"I knew you'd be in one of these houses, Kirren, I just didn't know which one. I probably should've thought that the one with the door open was enough clue, but I thought you'd try to trick me or something, but you'd only be tricking yourself. Now stay put, this will only take a moment, and everything will be done." The person held the gun up, aimed it at the wolf, but before he could pull the trigger, the wolf squeezed off a shot into the wall next to him and ran. He called out, "It's no use, wolf! I know where you'll go!"

Kirren ran until his lungs felt as if they would melt. His chest heaved, his heart pounded, and his head took glances back to make sure the man with the red eyes was not following him. A panic that he had not felt up until this point overcame him and he kept running as fast as he could until he finally collapsed at what seemed to be a bus stop. He stared at the blue sign and memories began to pour in.

He often sat at the bench nearby up until only a couple of weeks ago. The bus would come by, stop, and pick everyone up, their destination being the school. This was the last stop for the bus before it went to a prison of sorts, an institution that no one ever wanted to go to. Kirren remembered the people on the bus, the furs that always tried to make short conversations with each other, yet they always had smiles on their faces, always forced as if they did not trust their surroundings. He knew that they were all unhappy, and it was evident in their actions.

He remembered back to the girl that had spoken to him that day. She was new and asked about his card. He checked his pockets for his card before he remembered that he did not have any pockets or a card. He shook his head and walked past the bus stop, kicking the pole on the way. He shrugged off the memories that persisted to invade his mind.

The wolf paused to catch his breath, his vision melting into more memories of the past. For a moment, he could see a wolf walking on the sidewalk next to a ferret. They were talking to each other in whispers that were lost in the wind, yet they echoed in the open space of the street. They were laughing, smiling in ignorance. Kirren felt tears well up and he reached for the ferret, with a choke, shouting, "Kael! Don't leave!"

As he shouted, his vision became too blurry from the tears, but he could tell that the two figures were walking away at a faster pace. He almost thought they were running, but the pace at which their legs were moving made it impossible. He grasped at empty air and the ghosts of his past were gone for the moment. He rubbed the tears away and continued on, his heart sinking with each step, a warmth coming over him as his blood slowly began to boil, his sorrow slowly turning to anger.

He turned into his street and went to the first house he saw. He rested on the door, breathing heavily, holding a rifle at ready, swinging it from time to time, aiming at anything that would move, taking a shot at a few things that did not move. He turned the handle on the door, but it would not move. He looked around, trying to find another way in, before he remembered that his neighbors always put their keys under the mat. They were not the very trusting kind of neighbors.

He reached under the mat and found the keys along with a couple of sow bugs and earthworms that had taken refuge in the shelter that the mat had provided. He wiped off a bit of dried mud on the keys and inserted one into the lock to find out it did not work. He took another key and inserted it, turning it and causing the lock to click. He opened the door and went inside.

The scenery was not as he had expected. Blood covered the walls, dried and covered with even more ants and flies. He was immediately greeted with a foul stench which made him sneeze several times. He saw what looked like splatters from gunshots everywhere he glanced and when he looked at the floor, there were trails of blood that led to the door that he had just come in as if bodies had been dragged. He fell to his knees, covered his nose and closed his eyes.

He figured that they had to be taken and remade somehow, and he thought he had gotten used to the blood, but now that he was finally back in his own street, looking at the neighbor's house that he had grown up next to for whatever part of his life was real, it brought out tears and a horrible gut-wrenching feeling. He wanted to vomit, but there was nothing to vomit, so he spat bile onto the ground.

He walked over to a sink to clean his mouth out and to wash away some of the blood that stained his fur, though it seemed like none of it came out. After spitting out what he could, he drank down some tap water to dilute the bitter taste. He sniffed and wiped moisture from his eyes, slowly moving away from the sink. He felt oddly tired and groggily made his way toward the stairs.

Step by step he dragged his feet, tripping over a few steps in a drowsy haze. There did not seem to be any blood on the stairs, but what he could smell told him otherwise. A heady scent seemed to get stronger with each step he took, faint at first, but as he neared the top step, it was very clear. A sickly smell it was, bitter and smelled of rotted meat. A couple steps further and he had to duck down, hold his nose, and attempt to control his urge to vomit more bile. He headed up a couple more steps and his eyes began to tear, and when he was on the top step, he could hardly see.

He wiped his eyes dry and held one paw on his nose, trying not to breathe through it, but the bitter taste he got from breathing in through his mouth made him not want to breathe through there, either. For a moment, he held his breath and just continued forward, opening a door in which he figured the source was in.

As soon as the door was open, a cloud of black came out, only to go back in. A moderate buzzing filled the hall with its deafening noise, and yet he did not listen to it. His attention was focused on the floor which had begun to rot in a circle. In the center of the circle was a mound of moldy flesh, flies and maggots surrounding it and within it, writhing and crawling, almost giving it a sort of motion, yet he knew that it was dead, whatever it was.

He remembered that his neighbors owned a dog, a German shepherd. He turned away and tried very hard not to vomit, but he could no longer hold it. He quickly closed the door, tearing from the stench and the realization of what they did to the animals that were owned by the furries. He crawled back down the stairs, avoiding his own vomit, coughing and sputtering, a horrid taste still left in his mouth.

After rinsing his mouth once more, he walked out of the door, locked it, and tossed the key on the ground. He sighed and looked at the surroundings, making sure that the follower was not there. He frowned and thought back to what the person had said, that he would find him there, that he knew where he would go. But how would he? And for some reason, Kirren could not shake the feeling that he had not only heard that voice before, but seen those eyes somewhere. He walked forward and took a right, heading for a familiar sight.

He checked his pockets for keys before he remembered again that he did not have any pockets, and certainly no keys. He looked at the door, tried the handle, and it opened. He did not remember leaving it unlocked, but he was sure that his family could easily have unlocked it and left it unlocked in his absence or maybe even the people that took them away could have searched through it already. But if that were the case, why was the other house even locked? He shook his head and moved it out of his mind, trying not to think of it.

He walked back into the place he had left not long ago, and yet to him, it felt like a hundred years. Everything felt so new and yet so nostalgic at the same time. He traced his paw along the walls, feeling the smooth texture that he had remembered running into several times as a youth, playing with, drawing things on, and yet, he questioned at that moment how much of it was actually real. He could remember running around with a crayon, drawing little images he had seen in his tiny books with big lettering, pictures that were so happy, full of joy, bliss, hope. There was none of that now, he thought.

He drew a sun with jagged rays with his finger, giving it an imaginary happy face. He smiled at it lightly, and then used his paw to wipe away the markings that were never there to begin with. He walked toward the kitchen and smells of home cooked meals flooded his senses. His mother would always stand there with a pot at around the same time every night, or perhaps a pan. He often would run over to her, tug on her apron and bug her while she did so, but he never got in trouble for bothering her. Rather, he would always be picked up by her while she put the cooking on hold and she would look at him with a warm smile that caused his heart to beat harder. So soothing, so calm was her face that he could swim in the ecstasy that was a mother's love forever.

He sighed and walked toward the fridge. He opened it up as he had done several times before and took a peek inside. The milk had gone bad in the carton, easily discernable by the bad smell and solid sound when he shook it. He found some items that were still salvageable, and he kept that in the back of his head for later. He walked over to the answering machine and noticed it was blinking, the artificial light flashing in red, warning him that he should not leave the messages unattended or else they would never be heard. He did not remember there being unanswered messages when he had left the house, so he pressed the button and listened to the fake voice that played, a woman's, so he assumed.

"You have two new messages," so the answering machine told him. "Message one." He waited for the voice to say something, but for the first few seconds, it was just static. He was about to press the next button, but a voice spoke up, one that he recognized as a ferret's, one that he knew very well.

"Kirren! Don't come to school! Don't you know what they're doing to us? They're selling us as slaves! You hear that? Fucking slaves! Avoid them, Kirren, don't even come! Get your family and leave, okay?" The static started back up, and then stopped. Kirren stared at the answering machine, unable to respond or act upon what he had just heard, except that his eyes began to water once more.

He waited for the answering machine to continue with its messages. It began to speak in its monotonous voice. "Message two." Kirren waited for the message to be played back, so he stared at it, wondering what it would say, what voices he would remember from his past, but there was silence. He figured that it was a wrong number and turned around, walking away from the kitchen.

A voice spoke up, though. It sounded somewhat familiar, and he recognized it as that person he had seen earlier. He quickly held the rifle at ready, aiming it at his surroundings while the tape played. "Hello there, Kirren. It seems life has been bad for you, hasn't it? It's been bad for everyone. When there's nowhere else to go, we go home, don't we, wolf? You and I, we're very common, you can say, and you'll see why, soon, oh so very soon. I'm going to guess you'll get this in a few weeks. They didn't listen, you know? I told them it wasn't going to work, but that's fine. The experiment is going to happen, and you'll succeed, I know you will. I'll see you in a few weeks, wolf." Kirren walked over to the answering machine and blinked idly for a moment, trying to comprehend the message. He played it back a few more times to make sure he got everything.

He was confused as to what the person meant by experiment and why he thought he would succeed. He figured what he meant by not working was that furries were not completely controllable, but still, he could not help but wonder what he had to do with it. The messages were gone; the light was idle, no longer signaling that it had something of value to him in his pursuit of knowledge, at least of the situation. He walked away from the kitchen and headed to the living room, a room that he found ironic, since he was the only one living in it now.

He spied a picture frame on the television. He grabbed it and examined it closely, once more tearing up. In the photo, four figures stood next to each other, holding each other with an arm over each shoulder, except for those on the side. They all smiled at the camera, their height differences very apparent, but they tried to duck down so that the short ones could level things off, though they were already on the heels of their feet, pretending to be taller. The one on the left was a female, the figure that the wolf remembered to be his mother, smiling with her eyes closed, ignorant of the picture having been taken a little sooner than planned. A quick blink was all it took for her to be immortalized as having her eyes closed.

He wanted to see her eyes, now that he could see colors. He looked at the next figure, one that he recognized as himself, standing there, close to his family, those that he held so dearly and wished deeply that he could be with, in his time of need. He looked so happy in that photo, he thought. He remembered that it was taken only a month before everything had fallen apart. He wished desperately to be back in that time forever, so that he would not have to deal with the harsh reality of his present predicament.

He looked at the next figure, which he immediately recognized as his brother. He noted that his eyes were blue, in contrast to Kirren's red eyes. He shrugged it off, and continued examining the picture. His brother was six years older than he was and had already moved out, but he was back for a break, but had left again after the picture was taken. He belonged to the army, or so it was said. He stared at his brother and thought hard, wondering in the back of his mind if he was real or not, or just another character in the fantasy world that the humans had put him in.

He traced his finger along his brother's outline. A smile came across his lips as he moved on to the last figure. His father was a scientist, but in that picture, one would be unable to ascertain such information. He wore all casual clothing, his eyes were hazel, his smile sparkled, a magnanimous air around him. Kirren longed to hug him and tell him that he was home now, that they could come eat dinner with his mother, perhaps get a visit from his brother when he had time off from the army, though that seemed rare. He wanted to share his life with them until he could learn to let go, but it was cut so short, and he gritted his teeth in the thought that it would never happen, that the thoughts of him even wanting it were fake, a dream for something that was never real in the first place.

He added moisture to the picture frame, and after wiping his eyes, he set the frame face down on the television. He looked around at his surroundings once more, taking in all the familiar sights, and he was not so sure that they should be so very familiar. More frames were on the wall, all of them showing different pictures, some of the places they had supposedly visited in the past, some of their family, and some of him as a child. He smiled at his child pictures, thinking he looked a bit cute as a child. Once again, he wondered if it was real. The pictures sure did look real, but he did not know for sure. He picked up an individual picture of his mother, looked at the face he so badly wanted to see in person, and identified her eyes as blue. He put down the picture and quizzically looked at a picture of himself. He tried to figure out where he got the red eyes from, since it was neither from his dad or mother. He figured it must have been from his grandparents, but they did not have any pictures of them that he could reference.

He sat on the couch, found a remote on the coffee table, and tried to turn on the television. The screen was blank when he pressed the on button, but after a moment, a picture of static came in, white noise filling the speakers. He tried to change the channels, but it was useless. Every channel just gave static, white noise, and a number to tell him which channel was not working. He figured they cut off communications with the furry communities. Even then so, he guessed that the communication lines that they did give them were monitored and heavily censored so that they did not find out about important things.

He turned the television off and headed down a hallway, one that filled up with an artificial light from a light bulb about the size of a fist when he flipped a switch. The low buzz from the bulb told him that the electricity was still working for some odd reason, but he shrugged off whatever could have been their reasoning. Only another door and he would be in the place that he was most familiar with. He turned the handle and walked inside.

He flipped a switch and more light flooded the room, not from the blinds, but from the bulb that hung overhead. As he walked through the room, a cold sigh came from behind him, the air conditioner that he had installed not so long ago still working its hardest to keep him at a moderately cool temperature. The fake air, the fake light, it all seemed so ironic to Kirren that he had been surrounded by so many imitations of things they took for granted that when his life turned out to be fake, he was surprised. He nearly laughed at the thought, but disregarded it. He placed the rifles on his bed, resting on a jumble of sheets that he never bothered to straighten out.

He looked at a few stacks of paper. They were still in their race to see which could stay the idle longest, dust collections shown like trophies, stacks that he thought he would never see again. He spied a glitter off in the corner and he went to pick it up, whispering, "So that's where you were. I was looking for you all over the place...." He picked up a watch that seemed somewhat old. He figured that if anything was real in this house, it would be that watch, since he had been given it a long time ago by someone who was not a furry. He could not quite remember their name, but he remembered that they always spoke so softly, so gently to him, and always kept their distance. The person always wore white, though, in what seemed to be like a lab coat, which he found slightly odd.

He tried to think further back, about when he had gotten the watch, but he could not remember. He tried to remember where it was that he received it, but he could also not remember that piece of information. It felt like his memory was getting bad, or perhaps it was just not something that was very important for him to remember. He shrugged it off and put the watch on. Shortly after, he dug through his drawers, pulled out some boxers, and put those on, as well, along with some pants and a shirt.

It felt odd to him to be in clothes again, but he enjoyed it while they were there. He kept the bulletproof vest under the shirt just in case and sat down on the bed. He looked at the dirty pane of glass and walked over to undo the blinds, letting whatever light he could find shine into his room for the first time in weeks. The dirt on the glass made the light cast eerie shadows on the floor, but he did not care. He was glad to be in his home, and he smiled, laying on his bed, pushing his rifles aside to sprawl out, enjoying the sheets and his clothes. He closed his eyes for a moment, but opened them again, making sure not to fall asleep. He felt that he had woken from a strange nightmare. The haze that fell in front of his eyes was gone, the tears no longer came, and he felt as if things were coming back to normal.

He listened to the hum of the air conditioner, whispering softly to him with the cold air, speaking soft melodies, tiny ballads of cold. He felt so warm in his bed that he began to feel drowsy, slowly falling asleep. He sat up quickly, making sure that he did not doze off, especially when there was a potential threat nearby, and to make sure that it was real, he looked off to the side and recognized the rifles that he had with him for so long. He patted the bullet-proof vest and sat near the rifles, checking how many shots he had left, figuring he only had a couple, but he actually had five. He unloaded one rifle and decided carrying one around was a lot more efficient. He put the other one in the closet, held the bullets in one of his pockets. He was glad he had pockets once more.

He paced about in the room, feeling as he did on that day. Dread filled him; he did not want to go outside of the room for fear that he would have to face his pursuer, but he knew he would have to do it eventually. But how would the pursuer know exactly which house he was in? He figured that the person probably just left that message on the answering machine in every house, expecting to get lucky and catch him. He wondered how the person knew his name, though. He paced around a bit more, stirring up dust, ruining the quiet competition of the paper stacks. The air conditioner sighed softly on him with what felt like a cooler breeze than before, as if it had redoubled its efforts in order to impress its owner, loyal to the end.

Kirren shook his head and ran over to the door, pressed his ear against it and strained his hearing. He could not hear anyone in the house and everything seemed undisturbed, but he could not shake the feeling that someone was there. It came so suddenly, as if he were in another place, and he could not put his finger on what, exactly, it was. He stared at the walls, and for a moment, he could not focus his eyes.

Everything was a blur. He tried to focus, but it felt as if the scenery were melting and forming into something new, something just as solid as if it were real, but his rational thought screamed at him that it was just a lie. He looked down at his bed, and there he lay, unconscious. He thought he looked so peaceful, asleep there, until he stirred, woke up, and began pacing. The pacing continued on for a while, and he was looking for something, and he remembered the day this all started.

Just how long did they program his memories, he thought. Had he been alive for months, years, or was it merely minutes, hours, up until that point? He felt confused. He wanted answers, but the more he looked around, the more the scenery changed, from the room to a facility where he had been tied up. He could not see the actions performed clearly, but he remembered what had happened. Were the memories real? He began to question if any of his actions up until this point had actually happened.

What could he do? He was living in a memory. He rubbed his eyes, but it only changed it to the plantation he had been on previously. He looked around, taking in all the sights, the green grass, the dirt, the clear blue sky, and with a blink, it all changed. The green grass was now soaked with blood, bodies littered the floor, the sky was a jet black, and it had a sickly sweet smell that he could not escape. He turned around and saw a face he was so familiar with, a ferret.

He reached out and blinked, and the ferret was gone. He looked around quickly, frantically, and he saw a dragon, tied up, blood seeping out of holes that covered him. He dashed over to the dragon and tripped over something, and when he looked to see what it was, he found he had tripped over the ferret, lying on the floor, a hole on his side, mouthing words that he could not read with the blur in his eyes. He stood up, turned around, and ran into the door. He could see once more, disoriented at best. He looked around and wondered what had just happened, wondering if there was any point to his reminiscence.

He turned the handle and walked out the door. There was nothing in the hallway except for the poor lighting, so he moved back to the living room. He sat there and stared at the Television for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He shook his head, held it with both paws, and finally gave up trying to make any sense of what happened. He figured it was for the best. He placed the rifle in his lap and looked around, making sure there was no one else around. He gave off a sigh, put his face in his palms, and let a few tears come through. He cried out shortly in frustration, slamming his fist against the couch, luckily cushioned.

He put the rifle on the coffee table and stood up, walked around for a bit, and stared at the clock. It read that it was a little past noon. He walked over to another door, one that he had knocked on so many times before, one that belonged to his parents. He opened it, letting it move with a low creak, telling him that the hinges needed a bit of oil. A creak on the floor made him cautious, as if he had been sneaking into his parents' room like he had done so many times before. With a quick step, he stood near their dresser.

There was a picture frame standing up. It featured him and his brother, standing next to each other, smiling slightly, seemingly forced. He tried to remember back to that day, figuring that they had a fight or something else stupid. He often enjoyed arguing with his brother over anything, just for the sake of arguing. He looked on the dresser and found nothing else.

He examined the room, slowly taking in all that was no longer in his parents' possession. Kirren stared at the floor, backing up and slowly walking out of the room, closing it while he left. He turned and went to the living room once more, stretching his arms, scratching his chest. He began to plan in his mind what he would do now that he was here, in his own little refuge. He looked around at his memories and smiled.

He closed his eyes and stared into the darkness of his mind. Everything seemed still except for the low buzz of electricity and the hum of the air conditioner. It felt to him a bit awkward to be standing there after experiencing what he had, and he felt that he was not strong enough to make it on his own, much less see so many of his friends killed, in front of him or not. He shook his head and kept his eyes closed, his head raised high, tears cascading down his face. He bit his lip every so often, chewed very softly, gritted his teeth otherwise. His chest felt empty, as if he no longer had a heart inside of it.

He heard the door open, and before he could react, a shot rang into the air, a bullet hitting his right shoulder. He grabbed his shoulder with his paw, and looked at the assailant, recognizing him as the person that had been following him. He frowned and began to reach for the rifle, but the person shot it away. He stared into his eyes, and soon, fear began to envelop him.

He backed away slowly, keeping his eye on the gun, and when he turned, another shot rang out, another bullet in the same shoulder. He cried out in pain, tears streaming, a yelp into the air. He whimpered loudly, grasping his shoulder, realizing that he could not move his right arm. He turned around and quickly lunged at the person, but the person was ready, and kicked him back.

"Now, now, don't even bother. This was going to happen, you knew it, I knew it. What's the point in fighting back now," the assailant asked.

Between choked sobs, the wolf asked, "Who the hell are you?"

The person smiled and took a couple steps closer, staring at the wolf on the ground. "Why, you should know me better than anyone else."

Kirren shook his head, but in the back of his mind, he could hear the person's words echoing, dull ring, so soft, and yet so familiar. He spoke the words aloud to himself, and it dawned on him. He denied it the best he could, but in a moment, he knew they had the same voice. He looked at the person's eyes, the same red, so piercing. The only time he had seen those eyes was when he looked at himself.

To confirm it, the person said, "You are me, I am you. Why do you think you were able to kill so many people, hm? Why do you think you could have gotten here, so far from where anyone else could have gotten? It's because we're the same, wolf. Because you are me, you are able to do things that very few without years of training could do. You've killed so many, dodged several bullets, only because it was your instinct, as it is mine, after I've been trained, of course."

The wolf began to crawl away, but the person shot at the places that he would have gone to. He looked at the person, who shook his finger at him. "Don't bother running, Kirren. This is the end for you. I know everything you plan to do, everything you want to do, everything you are going to do. There is nothing you can hide from me."

Kirren made a run for it, quickly turning into his room, into the artificial light intermingling with the light streaming from the dirty pane of glass. The air conditioner hummed loudly, as if trying to soothe him. He looked for a weapon, anything that he could use, but as soon as he turned around, he felt a heavy blow on his chest, and he fell onto the side of the bed.

A boot pinned him down, assuring him that he could not move. He struggled desperately, but he would not budge. He looked at the person, who looked back and said, "You've suffered, haven't you? Because you've suffered, you've succeeded. The experiment is over now, Kirren. You can rest, you can die in peace. Don't you want that? It's much better than being alone in this world, don't you think?"

The wolf thought back to the ferret and began to punch at the leg pinning him down. He remembered back to the ferret's dying wish, and he struggled ever harder, kicking the assailant's legs. However, it was to no avail. He gritted his teeth and said, "I have to live...."

The person shook his head. "No you don't, Kirren. Don't you understand that? You don't have to live. It's over, we don't need to test it anymore. I know what you've been through."

The wolf shouted, "How the hell could you possibly know what I've been through?! Were you there?!"

The person shrugged. "I didn't need to be. You were there, and you are me. It's as simple as that, wolf. But now, we have to end this. It was a good run, don't you think?"

The wolf kicked at his legs even more, thrashing about, trying to get free, but it did not work. He cried loudly, sobbing, tears of sorrow and rage flowing out. "Then why the fuck did I live?!"

The pistol moved up and rested against the wolf's chest. "You lived so we could find our faults, Kirren. And now you will die so that we can move on. We gave you life, and now we're taking it back." With that, the trigger was squeezed.

In slow motion, the wolf fell after jumping from the shock of the bullet. He looked down at the place where he had been shot and realized that the vest had worked, but only enough to keep him alive a bit longer. Blood was seeping out of the wound steadily, and he began to feel nauseous. He coughed up a red fluid and his mouth was flooded with the taste of iron.

He suddenly felt cold and tired. His eyes began to droop, and all the pain was fleeting. He chuckled a bit and watched the waterfall of red, his own life slowly draining from him. He looked up at those red eyes, and then back down. Memories began to flash before his eyes, of everything he had gone through. What felt like years took only a second, and he fell to his side. His body did not want to move anymore.

He felt so fatigued, so sleepy. He closed his eyes and rested, but there were no dreams. He shivered for a moment, and he felt a blanket come on top of him. He was surrounded in it, and he felt so warm so suddenly. He could hardly breathe, but he did not care. He was so tired.

There were no dreams.

---

Epilogue: Birth

A man walked by in a white coat, test tubes in hand, pouring one fluid into another. He stared at a larger container, large enough to fit a person, and indeed, inside was one. He stared at it, sighed, and went back to work.

Another person walked in wearing casual attire. He looked up at the figure inside the container and smiled. His red eyes gazed at the scientist afterward, and he nodded a greeting.

"There you are, Kirren. We've finally managed to collect all the data and analyze it. It was shorter than expected, only a couple weeks. He should be awake momentarily." The scientist gestured at the figure.

"Looks like it was a success." The man with the red eyes walked over to the incubator, knocked on the glass, and inside the figure opened its eyes slowly. He waved at it, but it did not look conscious. He shrugged and walked back to the scientist. "It's weird, you know? Killing myself. Well, it wasn't killing myself as in myself, but it's still my DNA that you made him with."

The scientist nodded. "I assume that would indeed be a bit surreal. Not many people have the chance to say they killed themselves and still lived without a scratch."

The person said, "Oh, I wouldn't say it was without a scratched. He put up a fair struggle...."

They spoke and spoke about the past. Every now and then a laugh was thrown in, and slowly, behind the glass, the figure came to. It opened its eyes fully, red was their color, staring at darkness. It could not see yet, nor could it think. A light illuminated a plaque under the glass.

The plaque read "Kirren".

---

When we are at a loss

Do we not mourn?

When truth is but false

Is our heart not torn?

With what fate shall toss

Running shall be our form.

And yet, with everything as a cost

Our sanctuary is born.

Time becomes our boss

When our bodies are worn.

Finite is our tries

When our experiment dies

When all else severs our ties

When we must live with our lies.

---

"And the time when destiny crossed

The time when our thoughts of a fervor

Is now, that everything has been lost

For now is the time that we must start over...."