FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

2.

I woke up. Groggy and hazy as my eyes adjusted and my mind started working with the fact that I was now waking up, two things happened at once. First, my body started throbbing in pain and second, I realized that I wasn't wearing my glasses. The pain and throbbing that enveloped my whole body was put in the back of my mind as I came to terms with the first fact. I am near sighted, so everything in the distance should be blurry, but instead everything was crystal clear and perfect, so perfect I could make out the dust on my glasses, sitting next to me on a nightstand. As I came to terms with the miraculous occurrence of my sight's recovery, I noticed that this was not my room.

The shock of that revelation sent my aching body into a panic. The surroundings were completely unfamiliar. The room was filled with oak finished furniture, a large mirror hung over a dresser, and there were three closed doors. Finely cared for wood siding surrounded the walls and even the floor was a natural pine. I tried to remember what had happened, but all I could remember was the black shadow outside the house. There were flashes, a smell...I sniffed the air...it smelt of pine and cedar...My mind raced through the possibilities; I was kidnapped, what was going to happen me, and then...Then came the mirror...It showed the same face I had known except no glasses, but bruises covered my face in purplish hues. I sat up the comforter that covered my upper body fell down to reveal a somewhat hairy chest now covered in scratches and over both my shoulders were a criss cross of gauzes and bandages. The pain immediately filled my body. My hair was completely messed up, it long waves of brown twirled up in a mess and looked like a Mozart bust gone wrong. My face was unshaven and had hints of five o'clock shadow growing. In just one word I looked and felt like hell. I fell back on the bed with a thud that brought more pain to my backside as I let out a small cry. Concern began to mount as I wondered what the heck was going on, the only comfort was in the fact that whoever it was that kidnapped me, they were nice enough to bandage me up, but why?

Trying to focus on remembering, I hadn't noticed the door open to the room. By the time I noticed I found myself looking up into the face of a friend, Nick Baxter. His dirty brown blonde hair reached beyond his shoulder in gentle waves. He was topless which showed off his nice rounded chest with soft looking brown hair over it, and a smooth stomach. His arms were equally developed, not buffed but defined. He wore a pair of loose fitting dark blue pajama bottoms and a pair of black animal paw slippers. I often had told him that they looked far too gay to be worn by a man like him. Nick's nearly trimmed goatee held an air of happiness, but I could also see something else working behind the faux smile as he sat down next to me on the bed.

"How are you doing?" he asked genuine concern in his voice.

"Um fine save for the not knowing where I am. Why you are here and why do I have perfect twenty-twenty vision?" I asked a note of bitter anger in my voice.

"Well to answer your questions in that order; you are at a friend's place, his name is Eric Malsom, I am here to look after you and make sure you are ok, and lastly you have twenty-twenty vision because....well..." answered Nick, his answers leaving more questions than solutions and there was something else in the tone of his voice, as if he was holding something back," Do you remember what happened to you last?"

"I was..." I started to try and remember what I saw last.

It was a blur; I had gone out of my bed, wearing not much but a pair of underwear and socks. I was curious about who had come into my house. I don't know why I was, after all I did have a few room mates who came in and out, but perhaps it was the fact that no one had bothered to turn on any lights, or maybe it was the clicking noise. I was a light sleeper and any noise, especially anything that might be wrong in the house, made me uneasy and often lead to a tiring night of restless sleep, so there I was about to enter the kitchen in nothing but my boxers. The panic didn't set in until I saw the kitchen door open, the cold autumn air blowing in. Acting quickly, I grabbed a coat and walked outside, the night air cutting into my bare legs and feet as I stood on the porch.

The dark night was all that greeted me and the distant orange hue of the street lights were the only light available. It was not much help. All that greeted my eyes were black shadows and vague shapes in the dark. Of course being near sighted didn't help and my habitual lack of cleaning my glasses properly did not help. I heard a sound coming from the back side of the house...Instinct and a fearful voice in the back of my head said go back inside, but there was something odd about the noise. ..It sounded like a dog whimpering and scratching. What if someone's dog had gotten trapped under the porch out back, or worse had been attacked by coyotes? I could not leave it till morning only to find someone's dead dog. I really couldn't live with myself if I could something about it now or at the very least get an animal control officer to come out and help. Something had to be done. I carefully wandered out back. I was sure a dog wouldn't attack but a wounded dog was more vicious than a regular romp with a poodle.

I rounded the corner of the house and...There was a series of flashes in my memory, a large figure crouched near the porch, running, being thrown to the ground, the feeling of my shoulders being held down, snarling, growling, and the stinging pain of biting through out my bare shoulders and back. That was all I could remember except for one thing that I registered before passing out from shock and pain. The animal that was attacking me had a feather earring in its cup shaped ear. After explaining what I remembered to Nick, he seemed to just stare out into space away from me. I turned to look at his face a clear look of concern mounted on his brow.

"And that's it Nick, so what does that have to do with me having some rather miraculous changes in vision?" I asked wondering just what the heck was going on around me.

"You remember all those times I had to go away at night, sometimes abruptly?" asked Nick.

"Sure, I figured you had meetings like you said...Wait a minute were you ducking out and meeting some guys...Oh no you aren't dealing drugs and a drug dealer's angry mutt somehow got after me? You're in the mob?" I started rattling off conspiracy theories left and right.

"No but you remember when we first met?" asked Nick.

Nick, at first simply bewildered at the statements I had just made. I thought about what was going through my head and even I had trouble believing half of what my mouth had just sputtered forth. It was hard to imagine Nick as a drug dealer or in the mob, but I could see him going clubbing even though I had never seen him hit the bottle in the house or drink at all. Still looking into his brilliant blue eyes, I could see the concern mounting behind them. Whatever it was that Nick had to tell me was something that was far more important to him than I had thought of.

I did remember meeting Nick. I had an ad out for room mates to help pay the mortgage after my previous roommate had bailed on me. He and I made enough to get by and live comfortably but his replacement had not and it was necessary to find another to help with the bills. Nick showed up driving a Saab and wore a tightly fitting light blue shirt and tan slacks, as if he had come for a meeting. He was the only person to do that and it won points in my book. They say image doesn't matter but it certainly can help. As I took him through the two story house and basement, he was quiet, nodding here and there. We went into what has been affectionately called the green room. The living room I had painted after my mother died, actually six years after, I had inherited the house from her and a lot the decorating was much to her style. It was bland and white so I decided to lighten things up with a forest green which was bright. The room was mine for the most part and had one of my few oddities in my life. I had littered the room with wolves. Pictures, paintings, stuffed animals, books, and figurines all covered the book selves, walls, and even the entertainment cabinet. Nick seemed to lighten up a bit in the room as he had been stiff though most of the initial meeting. I figured it was the warmth of the room as the rest of the house was a pale white and looked like an asylum to me. In many ways it had been for my mom.

"So you like wolves?" asked Nick as he sat down on one of the burnt orange armchairs.

"Yeah...ever since grade school after reading White Fang, that kinda well...I have a thing for them," I replied kind of embarrassed by the fan like obsession I had with the animal.

"A thing?" he raised a brow at the last part of my statement.

"Yeah well, something about them, maybe the eyes, wild grace, I don't know, they just kind of speak to me. So much so that I give my money to a local wolf preserve," I answered filling out the paper work for Nick to sign.

"No problem as it happens I like them too, used to have a wolf dog when I was a kid, my parents lived in Michigan. I think I will like settling in here," grinned Nick finally looking comfortable.

Comfortable and that was exactly what Nick and I were not right now as we looked at each other. I could feel the tension between us building until he made the first move. He placed a warm hand on mine and held it tight. If anyone else had done such a thing I would be concerned but Nick always had a caring nature. Often he would give me a message relieving a lot of stress from my life. The other room mate, Jared had been the source of endless frustration. He was the walking disaster in the house. He often left dishes, messes, and was late paying the rent. I was getting fed up with him. Nick was often the one to pitch in and help me out with whatever needed to be done. No matter what I trusted him for simply that fact alone.

"Yeah I remember that day, you said you liked wolves just like I did...where are you going with this?" I asked curiously.

With a heavy sigh, Nick continued talking.

"The animal that attacked you last night was a werewolf," replied Nick bluntly," Before you start thinking about that, there is more. Unlike the movies werewolves aren't single roaming killers, they travel in packs and well....I am one too."

The brown wolf's mind raced back to focus on the golden furred body of Nick. The other wolf was unique as far as werewolves in that his body coloring was not that natural amongst wolves. In fact in the brown wolf's wandering with the Alpha he had only seen two blonde werewolves, most tended to turn brown or darker shades as the wolf took over. The Omega happened to remain a golden brown fur and blended perfectly into the golden grasses of the field, which thankfully were tall enough to cover him. Usually the Omega's coloration was a cause of problems with hunting anything. Not blending into the surroundings was not something a good predator like a wolf needed.

One thing the wolf and the human both agreed on was that a werewolf's presence to humanity must be concealed. Anyone breaking the werewolves' secrets would face summary execution, even the risk of detection was enough to get a younger, inexperienced werewolf killed. Most new werewolves, who managed to survive the attack, were taken away to safe places where they could go through the painful and mentally challenging aspects of becoming a werewolf. In those deep, secluded areas local werewolves packs would let the newly transform wolves reveal in their wolf sides and the instincts of the hunt. It was called the First Hunt and it was always supervised by an elder Alpha, a wolf who could control the wilder werewolves.

Sadly most new werewolves did not survive the first change. Most died from the sheer shock of the pain of the transformation, rearranging the body from human to wolf or any of the other forms. Most were unable to change successfully into the other form, usually because of the pain and simply died from the shock. Killing such werewolves was often considered an act of mercy. The physical transformation was nothing compared to the mental change for those that survived. Imagine suddenly being bombarded with a sense of smell that included colors, unable to tell which smell was which, how to walk on all four legs rather than two, and worse of all a hungry animal gnawing at your brain demanding that you kill anything that had red blood flowing through its veins. Sure there weren't many berserker werewolves that went around killing innocent people, but could and did happen.

It was the brown wolf's job to protect the pack's territory as he was the beta. He was the one who made sure that any stray wolf that wandered into the territory would be taken care of. He was the one that made sure the humans never found out about the pack. The Alpha would inform him of anyone's movements within the werewolf society and he would monitor it, if the wolf made any mistakes, he was the one to clean them up. The Alpha had to deal with inner fighting amongst other werewolves, other packs bordering the pack's territory, patrolling the territory, and keeping any unwanted guests out. The Beta's duty was to pick up the pieces left by the Alpha. He was to council and help the Alpha with the rest o pack. The Alpha's word was law but sometimes the Beta had to point out the Alpha's flaws, this led to discipline sometimes. It had to be that way; it was the way of the wolf. The wolf shivered as he thought about how his life would be if he had no pack and no Alpha to help him though the first transformations. The Alpha and pack offered him the discipline he needed as a werewolf.

T_his brought the wolf back to the field and what lay in the middle. There was a human being, male, standing in a metal tree in the middle of the field. Something was wrong, this was no ordinary hunter; the wolf could smell and hear the deer on the other end of the field, well within range of the hunter's weapon. He wasn't shooting the deer. In fact he hadn't shot a single deer in the last fourteen nights. The Beta had stumbled across the field at that time following a rather nice looking buck from the woods. After taking his fill of the fallen prey, the wolf traced the herd back to the field. There was this human, if he were poaching the wolf did not care, hunting was hunting. However this human was not hunting for food, in fact he was well fed and stunk of deer urine and pine trees. Under the faux fog of artificial cover there was another smell, the smell of designer clothing, slight nervousness, and most telling of all greed. The wolf watched the hunter that night. He could tell the hunter was not downwind of the deer, the deer could not smell him with the scents, but he could.

It did not take long for the wolf to see what was going on. The wolf saw a rather big gray and black wolf emerge from the forest downwind of the deer. The brown wolf growled and snarled, it was a new wolf and this human was hunting him. The wolf was new because the Beta could still smell the human on the wolf and because he could be detected meant he had not been trained. The Beta could have just let the new werewolf get shot but that would not help. The hunter would brag about such a prize and then the humans would come in and start testing. They would start combing the woods, looking searching for others, before too long their science would lead them to discover what the wolf really was. The Beta wondered about letting the wolf get killed and then killing the hunter, but a disappearing human would also raise concerns, he knew that much.

Like it or not he was not an ordinary wolf either, he could call upon the wretched human side of his nature for intelligence. The wolf hated to do this, his human side resented him, never letting him take control, was always there watching, dictating, and that merely angered the wolf more. Only once before long ago werewolves had taken it upon themselves to make an example of human hunters and humanity. The result had brought werewolves in Europe to their knees and all but wiped out their natural kinsmen. The guilt and lessons from that blunder had changed werewolves' behavior significantly.

After the wolf popped off into the woods without the hunter firing a shot, the Beta talked to the Alpha about what he had seen. They sat every night watching the hunter making sure they were out of sight. He was well equipped. Names like Remington, night goggles, food, thermal clothing, told the pair that this hunter meant business. The Beta overheard the human muttering things to himself; the human side recognized the accent as belonging to some place called New York, all the wolf could see was those tall metal trees and concrete floors._ I placed a simple phone call to the Manhattan City pack and Adirondack Falls Pack, both gave me more information, especially from the rough and tough beta of the Adirondack pack, Curt. The conversation itself was amusing as Curt's rude and crude attitude came shining through as always. He often called me the "fruity flimsy wolf from the puny state o' Maine." He was joking of course but I told him next time we met I'd show him who was the real man. The hunter was one Curt had his eyes on for some time, ever since he had shown interest in wolf hunting on the internet.

Ah the information highway made my job so much easier and the forums on wolf hunting and werewolf discussion groups made it even easier. You could always tell the fakes from the real. Fakes were anyone who drank absinthe under the full moon while quoting something from H.P Lovecraft to shape shift, people claiming that the full moon caused them to shift, they were born this way or had found the wolf spirit. All bullshit. Full moon influenced werewolves to shift more for sure, but we could resist it, real werewolves had to be in control for the most part. Few werewolves I knew drank or drank a lot. Alcohol made you stupid and a drunken werewolf in public was a sure fired way to get killed. Drinking was reserved when there were pack meetings and large group of werewolves away from humanity. Few werewolves were born, simply because females could not stop the change while pregnant and if they had to change then a miscarriage was all but certain. There were times when we had to change...Blood, fresh meat, going hungry, injury, sex, and basically anything that got the blood rushing made the human that much easier to loose control of the wolf nature. Keeping it caged up would just drive you insane or worse there would be a blood bath of rage filled killing when you did shift. The longer you went without letting the wolf side out, the more likely you would have no control when it was let out. So for a female werewolf to go nine months without shape shifting was hard if not downright impossible.

The internet made it easy to track the troublemakers and Todd Anderson was definitely one of the trouble makers. Todd was the hunter now standing on the metal tree stand in the field. He seemed normal at first, an avid hunter wanting that big game challenge of hunting a wolf. The wolf snarled in my head as I read those words on line. He wasn't too sneaky either. Under another user and server he had posted on a werewolf discussion group if real werewolves existed and what it would take to kill one. Thankfully no one blew our cover and loads of suggestions from the ridiculous to the serious came in waves. Silver....that was the sure fired way to do it. One thing all the legends agreed on was silver, so it came as no surprise that was what killed a werewolf. If what Eric and I had planned went well that wasn't going to happen tonight. One good bonus I had found on my internet search besides the common name was that Mr. Anderson had a near dead mother in a nursing home, Alzheimer. I wondered if Todd cared about her so much as his passion for wanting to bag a werewolf. It was one of those things that made me glad Nick had done what he had done, though I still often cursed him for doing it in the first place.

The pack stayed in their planned positions in the field, the need to wait was driving the Beta mad and imagined the Delta would be having a hard time keeping his wolf side in check. Kevin had been the pack's beta until I showed up. I refused to listen to him at first and that resulted in me getting continuously pounded by him for the first two years I was in the pack. Then came the coupe. Pack members changing rank in a werewolf pack were common but if there was a good alpha to anchor everything down, the transition could be done smoothly without much fighting or injury. Kevin knew his role as did I. I got the role from him because it all boiled down to results and how to go about things. Kevin preferred tooth and claw, where I preferred strategies and talking to the right people. My networking skills out did Kevin's savagery in the end and Eric made me the pack beta. I accepted the job aspect of it but not the pack ranking. Although I was accepted in the pack, I didn't accept the pack. There were internal issues with certain members.

_The gray and black wolf suddenly got the attention of the Beta's amber eyes and the Alpha's as he darted out of the forest as if something large and nasty were chasing him. The Beta knew that much was true for that something large and nasty was the pack's Delta. The Alpha and Delta might have been brothers separated at birth except the Delta was by far the larger brother. Werewolves who were born werewolves were usually conceived between a mated pair of werewolves or they were born to a human female or a wolf female. The Delta had been born to a female wolf and raised as a wolf. He didn't stay long as werewolves tend to mature fast as wolves and his father took him away to be trained. The Delta according to the Alpha took to being a werewolf like a duck to water. Instinct was bred into the Delta's very being. As a bitten werewolf the Beta had to learn everything, the Delta didn't and that's how he acted brash, bold, with a complete sense he was always right even when he wasn't.

The hunter raised his gun at the new wolf but apparently not quick enough to get a shot, which was the plan. Instead he took aim at the Delta. Any other werewolf might be dead as the bullet flew through the air towards the Delta, but the Delta wasn't just any other werewolf. He almost sneered at the silver bullet and lowered his body to the ground. The hunter, obviously used to his prey jumping up had aimed higher. The bullet missed the black wolf completely. Two things happened at once, the Alpha and Beta pushed against the metal tree sending it tumbling down, while the Delta, Epsilon, and Gamma headed off the new wolf. The new wolf simply cowered before them, confused and fearful of what was going on and possibly what was going to happen to him. Todd Anderson landed on the ground, the sound of a broken bone springing into the Beta's ears. Todd came face to face with the quarry he was hunting though it was not the gray and black wolf he had hope for. It was a golden wolf snarling every one of his white fangs all but taking off he hunter's nose.

The Omega pinned the hunter to the ground but did not take the first bite that was up to the Alpha, who regarded the hunter for a moment before his black muzzle came down on the hunter's neck. With a violent twist the human's body shook and spasmed. A few last breathes and the human was dead. The Beta went over to inspect the body, there were no fang marks just bruising. To the untrained eye it would appear that Todd had fallen and broke his neck. Luckily the forest was so dense and distant from anywhere it would be weeks before the body would be found by another human being. If Todd had told anyone where he had gone, then the police would not start searching the area for another two days._ Fortunately the pack lucked out, a local hiker found the body two weeks later, after a bear had made a meal out of it, making it impossible to determine the exact nature of his death. Officially I think the police determined the poacher was killed when he miss-stepped on his platform.

The Beta turned away from the scene to cover up the wolf tracks, but there was a warning from the back of the wolf's consciousness....blood...The wolf smelt the blood coming from the human's body. His stomach rumbled and the wolf licked his lips. The Delta came over and nuzzled his beta, his body indicating the same reaction. They were both intoxicated by the smell of the blood, the smell of the hunt. The Beta snarled at the Delta's affections and quickly got the desired submissive belly of the Delta. Did I mention I did not like Kevin.

After being released the Delta gave out a snicker while rolling on his back, pawing at the Beta's muzzle showing his submissive side. The Beta gave him a snap back going about doing his job making sure the paw prints where erased using the bushy tail to sweep them away. The Omega nudged him towards where the new wolf was. There sat a large wolf, its black back blending slowly into gray, becoming white on the belly. A distinctive black strip running from his forehead to the wolf's nose tip covering his muzzle was now snarling in anger and fear. Yellow eyes were now trembling between the pack members that were surrounding him. This was not going to end according to plan...