FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"The mysterious killer known as Kira has struck again. This time, Kira has begun to target those on the darker side of the streets; drugs dealers, street hookers. A total of twelve hundred cases around the world has piled up. The cause of death for the mass majority was released to the press around 2am. Apparently, tonight's victims of Kira have committed mass suicide from slitting their own wrists or necks. We continue to gather information as the killings continue. But after two days of what is now becoming known as the Kira Movement, a huge debate has sprung up in the United Nations: Can anybody figure out who is Kira? And if so, should anyone even try to stop him?"

The fox continued to listen to the reports as they came in through his earbuds. He did not want any outside noise distracting him as he looked through the scene. He was careful to step over the bodies. His eyes darted to and fro, taking in every detail. The dark shading between two wooden boards on the wall. How similar the color of dried blood looked like to the darkness of outside when the lights were off. In his mind, he counted how many bodies that were slumped over with their necks slashed. 33... 34... 35... Each of them had a sharp object in their paws. Knives seemed to be the majority. One vixen with a way too short skirt on was holding a bloody spoon.

The fox racked off questions in his mind as he looked around. How could this happen? Why would Kira want to hurt these innocent people? Well... not-so innocent. Police forces around the world were praising Kira at this very second. Hell, even the US Army was giving their own Hoorahs to him. But not the fox. He thought that what Kira was doing was wrong. Not one person alone should have been able to decide who lived and who died. Those supporters of his may not have been able to see it, but Kira was taking away lives. Criminal lives, he would give it that, but lives nevertheless.

"I believe I have done all I could here, gentlemen," the fox spoke aloud and nodded to the photographers who were here to take pictures of the gruesome scene to take a glance at later. The fox carefully stepped around some of the bodies on the floor to make his way back out of the building. Outside in the back alley were several police cars, with the men in blue standing around waiting for news about the inside.

One of them, a polar bear with a five o'clock shadow under his chin, came up to him. He almost has the same shade of white fur as I do. "You're the famous L, right?" The fox looked up at him and nodded. "What can you tell us based off what you saw in there?"

"Nothing more than you already knew," L responded. "But this does confirm that whoever Kira is, he -- or she -- is targeting those with a criminal record. And I may have a good idea on where to start looking for him."

The bear looked surprised. Almost taken aback. "Are you sure about that? For all you know, this Kira person could easily turn on you the second you try to get close to him." L knew the gentleman was trying to get him to back out of the Kira case, but like this officer, L took an oath of his own, one that said he would bring justice to those who needed it with or without the help of the police.

L gave a tilt of his head and a flicker of his ear. "Trust me, sir. I will be just fine. Meanwhile, you and the others just keep doing your job of protecting the streets of this city."

The bear in blue gave a nod of his head. "Will do."

L headed around the corner where a black Volkswagen Beetle was parked. He hopped into the passenger seat and buckled in. The driver, a grey wolf with white chin fur wearing a black tuxedo and a black cap, turned to his companion and asked, "Have you made any progress?"

L took out his earbuds and shook his head, opening the glove compartment where he usually keeps a small bag of Snickers. "No. But I do believe I have an idea on where to start looking for Kira." He pulled out a tablet and searched through bookmarked websites until he came upon a blog that stuck out to him earlier in the day. "Natasha McAlister, or Natalie as she prefers, started writing about Kira the second his name went viral on the internet. From the way her words sound on her Facebook page, she is completely against him."

He started to read from his tablet.

Kira is not somebody that I would praise or ignore. The fact that he is taking lives from over hundreds of people all across the globe is a little upsetting and I want to bring him to a stop. My hope is that Kira will eventually be willing to discuss the situation with me. I do not wish for him to be captured and tortured and executed; for I believe the killing must cease effective immediately. Kira, whoever you are, please reach out to me. I firmly believe that we should negotiate terms that will being this whole madness behind us. I will not release your identity to the press if you do choose turn you in like a selfish woman. I only want to put the thousands of deaths to an end.

"She's a sweetheart," L said after finishing. "I've also been searching around after her post also went viral. She has started her own organization stationed in an urban city in Central Ohio with the goal of seeing the end of Kira's reign of death. Already, she has over four-thousand supporters. In one night."

"That is highly impressive," the old wolf said. "But how will she be able to help with the investigation?"

"I have a theory about where this all started." L pulled up a digital globe with a bunch of red dots indicating where each of Kira's victims were. "Kira has a pattern of offing those with a bad record. On Friday night, the day before Kira rose to fame, a man by the name of August Morgan supposedly turned a gun on himself after holding a dozen students hostage in a school right where Natalie McAlister lives."

"How long have you been pondering all this?"

"For several hours. Do you think you can get us some seats on the next flight to Columbus, Ohio?" L popped a few skittles into his mouth. He always liked the blue ones.

"I'll do what I can. But for now, you should probably get some sleep. It will help you stay focused on the task at hand."

L smiled. He knew that the wolf, Watari, was correct. It's been almost a day and a half since the fox had any shut-eye. And if he was going to see Natalie in the morning, he needed to be fully awake. L leaned his head against the window and counted to one hundred in his head. He was fast asleep by the time Watari managed to snag a few leftover seats on the red eye flight to Ohio.

***

"Investigation?" Light asked. He was just getting an eyeful of the morning headline: Detectives Begin the Trail for Kira after 2500 Deaths. He wasn't scared at all. Nervous, a little bit. But there was no possible way for anyone to trace it back to him, was there? Light himself was not at any of the crime scenes, never wielded a blade, never held a gun to someone's head. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he was just an average seventeen-year-old boy with exceptionally fast handwriting.

Jessie-Belle clicked her tongue as she fixed breakfast; Cinnamon toast for Light, soup for Aunt Natalie (she was coming down with something). "My thoughts exactly," Jessie said, shaking her head. "I'm not sure what to think. I mean, they can look for him all they want, but they might have a hard time. Last time I checked, gods were hard to find on earth. These are ready."

Light felt his appetite waver when Jessie plopped down a few slices of toast on his plate. But knowing he would need the energy for school, he ate anyways. He considered taking the Death Note with him to school; take down a few names for later during lunch. He could hide it inside his new vest jacket that Natalie got for him yesterday. Again, his mind played tug-of-war as doubts began to creep up in his mind. What if somebody saw it? The second they see the book, it would be game over.

He ate in silence. And when he finished, he rushed upstairs, threw on some new clothes (dark jeans and a grey shirt with an optical illusion in black ink), hoisted his schoolbag over his shoulders and grabbed the Note. He flipped through the rules portion of the book, like he did when he couldn't find any names to put. There, on the sixth page, it said Rule 21: One page taken from the Death Note or even a fragment of the page contains the full effects of the Note.

So Light always had the option of taking just a single page to school instead of the whole book. But today he felt risky. He stuffed the book on the inside pocket of his vest right next to his favorite pen. It was still warm from last night; it was halfway out of ink already. Light needed to get some more pens later.

The young cheetah bolted down the stairs where Jessie-Belle came out of Natalie's room. "She's not looking so hot," the puma said. "I'll take you to school, Light."

"Thanks." Both felines headed out the door into the cool Monday morning. Light and Jessie hopped into one of the cars behind the house and she drove him towards the school on the opposite end of town.

It was so weird going back to school, Light thought. All the same buildings there as it was last week. But now without Father always on the verge of hitting him, he felt like it was going to another world. Jessie dropped him off at the same stop Father always did. Right next to the tree where Light first found the Note. "I'll see ya later, sweet cheeks!" Jessie said as Light climbed out of the car. He thought he saw her sticking mint gum in her maw before peeling out of there.

He kept his eyes low to the ground as he walked up to the building. Some kids hanging outside stopped their conversations and glanced over at him as he walked. "That's him; Light McAlister." "I heard his dad died in some freak accident." "Didn't think he was going to show up." At least everyone forgot about the demon symbol incident. Now instead of calling him a freak and a weirdo, everyone that he brushed by gave him a look of pity. Pity that his father was now under the earth.

Light, however, did not want any pity. Father was a bad man who got what he deserved. Nothing more. When he arrived at his first class in the morning, his English teacher, Mr. Borris, regarded him with a casual, "Everything all right, Light?"

"I'm fine," he snapped. The bear backed off after that. A few kids stared at him as they came in and took their regular seats. It's okay. It'll eventually blow over. Certainly, there are more interesting things at this school than me.

Near the bell, he heard Mr. Borris say, "Ah yes, you must be the new student. Mikayla?"

"Yes," a peppy voice answered.

Light looked up to see who it was. Most new students came in at this time of year. And nearly all of them got under Light's fur one way or another. However, one look at the new student and Light nearly dropped his pen.

She was a vixen, looked almost his age. She had red velvet fur, a white sleeveless shirt, short jeans and a scent that said "I don't sit around all day like some freeloader". Her eyes from the look of it were green; not mossy or grassy green; more like Christmas green. Did that make sense? Either way, she was admirable, like an old intact antique you wanted to keep on display. She would be what those in the South would call a "belle".

The vixen's eyes wandered around the room for a place to sit.

She ended up picking the seat next to Light.