FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You know, if anyone had asked me before I died what I wanted for my funeral, I would've been modest. I probably would have said something along the lines of, "Oh,I don't want it to be sad. It should be a celebration of life! I want it to be a party!" Post death me, though? Totally different answer. I would've asked for everyone to be dressed in black, hired an actual damn horse-drawn hearse to bring my casket, and paid some acting majors to sob uncontrollably through the whole thing. The whole nine yards, you know? It's like, mourn me, goddammit!

Hi, my name is Jordan Donahue, and I wrapped my car around a tree trunk while street racing on October 17th, 1993.

Now don't worry, I died instantly. I got thrown from the wreck pretty damn hard, though, and by the time I figured out what had happened, they'd already taken my body away. If there was any chance I had of surviving that, I probably had to do some bullshit like possessing myself. But since they already took me away, I was pretty much screwed outta my one shot.

'Sides, that was some time ago, and I've done pretty much everything that I could think to do in that time. I visited my family (total bummer), I saw a bunch of concerts for free (rad as hell), I visited every single country and I even crashed a seance one time (total fraud, but I had to check.). But in that whole time, I've never seen another ghost. Or spirit, or angel or demon. So, I figure I'm either in limbo or hell. Sucks, right? But that's when I started experimenting with what I'm allowed to do.

And I figured out that I'm allowed to do a whole damn lot, as long as I'm not the instigator. So what does that mean? I can't go around screwing with just anybody. But if someone is actively ghost hunting? Or if I pick an abandoned house and people break into it? They're fair game. And I get to work my magic.

It's a lot to take in, I know. But, and this is perfect timing, I swear I didn't plan this, there's someone about to break into this old dump right about now. There's just so much I could do to them, you know? I mean, I gotta take my fun where I can find it, right? Shh- they're almost here.

This is gonna be hella fly.

--

"I don't like this. This place could have like, asbestos in the walls." A flashlight beam pierces the darkness, a slim grey wolf stepping through the doorway. He swings the flashlight around, the cold beam illuminating a stack of dusty tables. "We don't have the proper masks for that.", he chides, stepping forwards.

"Then don't demo any walls, Jairo. The stuff is mostly only dangerous if you shred it. Probably." A smaller, weaker beam of light shines on the back of the wolf's coat as he's followed by a dark purple-scaled dragon using a phone as a flashlight. "Could always use your t-shirt as a mask if you're really worried," the dragon continues, pointing his phone at the stained ceiling of the room.

"It's probably going to be fine," the wolf replies, more to himself than anything. He turns around, checking the corners next to the entryway. "Reth, you sure this place checks out?"

"Totally." Reth nods, stepping past the wolf, boots crunching over the debris on the floor. "I looked it up. Barely anybody's uploaded anything about exploring an abandoned Kenny Roger's Roasters. More clicks for us."

"That's not what I... Nevermind. Let's make sure it's safe to film in here."

The place was surprisingly in good shape. Stacks of wooden chairs lined the far wall, spiderwebs dangling in the spaces between their legs. Just in front of those, tables had been stacked, one inverted on top of the other, legs sticking up in the air, causing Jairo's flashlight to cast long, weird shadows on the wall. Everything was covered with a thick film of dust, making Jairo's nose twitch in annoyance. Off to the right loomed a long counter, presumably where the cash registers had been before they were taken out. The kitchen lurked behind, the view from the ticket window pitch black and foreboding.

"Reth, I feel like we're being watched." The wolf's eyes scan the ticket window, but can't see anything. "Are you sure you checked the kitchen and the bathrooms? You know it's way more likely that this is a drug den than a haunted, uh. Chicken restaurant."

"Dude, I don't wanna get stabbed any more than you do. This place is dead." The dragon chuckles at his own joke, as Jairo rolls his eyes. "Besides, ghosts aren't picky. They haunt like, dolls. Why not a restaurant? I'd haunt a restaurant."

"Alright, alright, fine. Where do you want to do the intro? One of those booths?" Jairo jerked his head to the aging, cracked vinyl seating that stood along the far left wall. "Or do you want to stand in the middle, here, and drag out some tables to make it look like this place was left in a hurry and just forgotten about?"

"Tables are a good idea. But just like, drag 'em out haphazardly so it looks sloppy." Reth's tail thumps, as he turns and heads for the furniture. Jairo starts to follow, but pauses, as the fur on the back of his necks starts to raise. He whips around, only to see nothing.

"Fucking. Kenny Rogers." Jairo mutters, following after Reth and grabbing at a table. Truth be told, he wasn't really invested in this whole 'ghost hunting for youtube' kick Reth had been on lately. He just liked hanging out with Reth, and since Reth was the extrovert, he picked what they did. And so: ghost hunting.

"What was that?" Reth calls out, yanking a table out into the middle of the room. "Didn't hear you."

"Nothing. I'm gonna go set up the camera and the tripod."

"Alright!"

One or two trips later, and the wolf has mostly finished the setup. Barebones, for now, although Reth has promised any money they make from the channel would go right into more equipment. The wolf's ear flicks as he remembers suppressing the urge to let Reth know they'd probably make less than a dollar in a whole year of these videos. His ear flicks again, and he straightens up from the camera, frowning. Something felt off.

"Hey, Reth?" Jairo's lips move, but his voice dies in his throat. The wolf tries to bring a hand up to his neck, but his arm isn't responding. In fact, nothing's responding. The wolf stands there, fur pricking as he feels a chill seep into his bones. Jairo tries to shout, call out to Reth, even move a finger, but all he can do is stand there and stare into the back of the room.

"Totally missed that. What'd you say?" The dragon turns, squinting past the lights.

"I said this thing we're doing is gonna be hella fresh." Jairo feels himself say. His body jumps up and down a few times, as if getting psyched. Inside, Jairo is shouting. What the hell was going on? Is he having a stroke? His body stretches, arms raising above his head as if he'd just woken up.

Hey, buddy. Gonna borrow your body for a little bit. Don't bug out or anything. It'll be mostly the same when you get it back.

He would've jumped straight out of his pelt if he could. He was hearing voices now, was that it? None of this made sense. Something was more than wrong. Something was unnatural. The wolf, or more accurately, the wolf's body spits off to the side, the spittle glowing a bright green before dimming to nothing.

Gross. Ectoplasm.

His tongue feels too thick in his mouth. Everything feels a little too loud. He's suddenly aware of the air pressing down on him, the room suddenly feeling heavy and oppressive. He can feel his fur prickling, standing up on end as the mysterious force subsuming his body continues, unabated. He can't smell anything except burning electricity and melting rubber.

Aaaand...done.

Jairo opens his eyes, unaware he'd even squeezed them shut. The awful scents were gone. He takes a deep breath, trying to erase the memory of the whole thing. Bringing a hand up to his face, he rubs at his eyes, fingers pressing against his brow before slowly seeping through, almost as if there was some kind of surface tension to his body.

He pauses.

He brings his hand up, this time accidentally shoving his whole hand through his head. He yelps, confusion and fear once again arcing through him in an instant. "What the fuck? Am I dead?" The wolf spins, looking around wildly before looking down at his feet. He's floating. Not only is he floating, but he's floating above himself, his former body looking up at him with a shit-eating grin on its face.

"What the hell! What did you do?!" He yelps, twisting around fruitlessly in the air, trying to get back to solid ground. "Give me my body back!"

His former body shakes his head. "Not a chance, dweebus. Not before I've had a chance to have some fun with your friend over there." It jerks a thumb over at Reth, the dragon huffing as he drags tables around to get to the chairs behind. The ghost in his body grins, a menacing glint in his eye that Jairo would never have been able to summon.

"You leave Reth alone, asshole!" He shouts, the effects of his words diminished by the fact he was flapping his arms as hard as he could. It'd been the only thing to work, pretending like he was swimming. He huffs, glaring as he slowly descends.

"So his name's Reth, huh.." The body thief muses, stroking his chin. "I did always have a thing for dragons..."

Jairo's ghostly feet finally make contact with the floor. He shakes his head, air no longer feeling like pudding. He felt light, though. Lighter than he ever had been. This wasn't permanent, was it? The horrifying thought grips him, and he strides towards his body, fists clenched.

"Hey dude! We good?" Reth calls out, dusting off a chair and slamming it down behind the table.

Both Jairo's and the body thief's heads turn as the dragon coughs, hopping up into the chair and subsequently into the cloud of dust.

"I'm ready to start rolling when you are! And look, it's almost like a real show!" The dragon slaps the table for added effect.

"Yeah dude, start whenever!" The ghost shouts back, in Jairo's voice. "Try not to use up all the tape!"

Jairo watches as the dragon cocks his head in confusion. "Hah, yeah.."

The body thief slinks back behind the tripod, making a show of pressing the record button. "Okay, go!" his old body shouts, holding up a finger. "Now. Marker!" Reth begins his standard intro spiel, and his body steps back, bringing his hands up to his chest. Glancing at Jairo, fuming, almost forgotten in the corner. "Now the real show begins," it mouths, bringing its hand up to it's chest.

Watching in confusion, Jairo suddenly feels an ice cold sensation where the thief was rubbing his body. He looks down, in shock, as he watches the ghostly impression of his t-shirt slowly start to rise off of his chest. He brings his hands up, slowly, and presses them against his chest,fingers lightly settling on..on..

"Boobs!" His old body hisses, rubbing at it's chest. "Gods, how long it's been.."

"S-stop." The force behind the wolf's words has all but evaporated. "However you're doing this..I'm not a-a!"

"Not yet you're not." His old body smirks, buttoning his coat. "Play nice and maybe when I'm done I'll leave you how I found you." Was it just his eyes..or were his lips fuller? He brings a hand up to his face to check, translucent fingers tracing along the outline of his mouth. Definitely fuller. He shudders, involuntarily licking his lips. Goddammit.

With the coat buttoned, most of Jairo's changes were hidden from view, at least from Reth. The dragon was still reciting his lines into the camera, blissfully unaware of the unfolding horror behind the lens. Why was his intro taking so damn long?

"Why are you doing this? What possible benefit could you get from this? I-I-I mean, you're a real live ghost-"

"Real dead ghost." The thief shoots back.

"Real dead ghost, sure, but the point still stands! We could work together, prove ghosts are real! That's what this whole stupid youtube channel was supposed to be about, anyways!" The wolf pauses, taking in a deep breath. "You could still stop this. We could-"

"That's not how this works, doofus." His old body shudders, standing up straight. "You think I haven't tried that before? Not making that mistake again. So sit back and enjoy the view."

The ghost brings a hand up, cupping at their chest as the fabric of the winter coat starts to press outwards. Jairo can't help but stare as the formerly flat chested wolf that used to be him shifts, resting a light hand across the front of their breasts as they swell. He looks down, the growth mirrored on his own spectral form, as he watches his cleavage deepen.

"You should really invest in a bra, you know. See how you can see your nipples through your top?"

He has boobs.

"Fuck you."

Fuck. He has-

"That's the plan."

"I-what?"

He looks up from his own chest, only to spin around, looking for his body. It takes him a few seconds to realize that the thief is moving towards Reth.

"Hey! I told you to leave him alone!" He tries to follow, but it's like wading through chest-high water. He can see his tail flick, the motion dismissing Jairo's shouts as he struggles across the floor. His boobs are in his field of vision, almost another shackle as he tries to move towards the dragon's table

"I mean it! You-"

"Hey, Reth. Quick question." The wolf speaks, ignoring the flailing spirit behind him. Jairo can only watch as his body reaches up and unbuttons his jacket, exposing his full chest to the dragon. Jairo's jaw hangs open at the brazen display, heat rushing to his cheeks as he sees his friend look down and stare, the look in his eyes one Jairo never thought would be directed at him.

"Jairo, what the-"

The thief grabs Reth's hand and guides a scaled palm on a breast, pressing it and rubbing it against the furred, warm skin. Stepping closer, the wolf lets his whole torso press against Reth's side, bringing another hand around the dragon's shoulder.

"You like?"

The dragon swallows, at a loss for words. Jairo watches in utter shock as the wolf gently takes his hand off the dragon's, putting it instead up to his cheek as he caresses one of his horns. Reth shudders, hand still in place as he slides it along Jairo's chest, groping at the wolf's tits.

"Reth! What the hell!" Jairo finally finds his voice again, but the two people in front of him don't pay him any attention, lost in exploring the other. "You fucking! Jock! You're the one that did all the ghost research! How are you falling for this!?"

"I don't understand..." Reth mutters, sliding a hand to the wolf's backside, steadying him on his lap. His claws scrape against the wolf's rear, pressed against the taut denim of Jairo's jeans. The body thief lets out a haggard moan, pulling Reth's head down and into a quick kiss. The dragon grunts, pulling at the gender-swapped wolf as they make out.

Jairo would've been bright red if he wasn't ghostly blue. He could almost feel Reth's hand on his body, even though he wasn't the one snuggled up in the dragon's lap. He bites his lip, and looks down once more at his new chest. What would it be like to kiss Reth? Is...Is Reth even a good kisser? Jairo brings an arm up, across the front of his breasts, watching the pair progress from a kiss to a french kiss before his old body pulls up.

"You don't have to. Just relax."

Jairo's eyes almost bug out of his head as he watches a hand go for Reth's pants, deftly unbuttoning the fly. Slender, more delicate, it slips past the band of Reth's underwear with ease, resting against the dragon's groin.

"Mmmf." The dragon moans, adjusting on the cheap wooden seat. He exhales, leaning back, eyes closing.

The wolf grins, hand stuffed down Reth's pants. "That's it. Anything to say to the viewers at home?"

"Pocket salt." Reth mutters.

"What?" both Jairo and the thief say, in tandem.

"Pocket salt!"

Reth brings up his other hand, opening a clenched fist as he drops what could only be table salt along the back of the wolf's body.

The thief shoves backwards, sending Reth and his chair tumbling to the floor.

"You ASSHOLE!" The wolf shouts, trying to reach at his back. "ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS GET LAID!"

"BEGONE, DEMON!" Reth shouts, from the floor.

"FUCK YOU, THAT HURT!" The wolf shouts down at the dragon, clothes beginning to smoke.

"Haha! Get fucked, asshole!" Jairo whoops, pumping a fist into the air. The body thief shoots a glare, forgetting Reth as it makes its way back to the camera.

"Fine. That's how it's gonna be? Fine. Fine! Enjoy being stuck like this, dillhole! Eat my fucking shorts!"

Jairo smells burning rubber as the ghost closes in on him, hand outstretched. Bringing his arms up, he flinches-

---

One Year Later

Steam wafts out of the open bathroom door in the little apartment, the sun setting through the cheap venetian blinds. A cheap TV quietly recites the evening news from the kitchen counter as Jairo steps out of the bathroom, fur ruffled as he ties a towel around his waist. He moves to his dresser, pulling the topmost drawer out.

Bzzzt.

His phone, charging by the tv, lights up.

RETH: hey how'd it go

Jairo lifts up a black underwire bra, pushing the fabric of the cups back into place. Huffing, he brings it up to his breasts and fastens the clasps behind his back, adjusting his posture slightly so that the hooks don't snag his fur. With one hand, he picks up his phone while the other idly fixes his bra into place.

JAIRO: About as well as could be expected. I think it helped that they hadn't seen me in awhile.

He sets his phone down and reaches back into the same drawer, pulling out a lightly colored, scrunched up ball of cloth. He shakes it, gently at first and then harder, the lacy lingerie unfolding as he lets the towel drop to the floor. Leaning on the counter, he guides the lingerie up his thighs, the thin fabric hugging his ass before coming to rest on his hips. He brings a hand down and smooths the front, shuddering as the concept of there being nothing there anymore still has hold of him. He picks up his towel, grabbing the phone to look at Reth's reply.

RETH: howd your dad take it

The phone is carried, across to the closet, Jairo's brow furrowing as he types.

JAIRO: I think he was just glad he didn't have to be there for the process. It still feels weird, you know?

He reaches in and pulls out a black dress. He stares at it, maybe a second to long, and then pulls it over his head.

RETH: i don't think that it should feel not weird if that makes sense

RETH: im outside btw

RETH: are u ready i don't know if fancy restaurants hold reservations for you or give them away the minute you're not there because manners or whatever

The wolf's head pops out of the top of the dress, smoothing it along his slimmer frame. He glances down, the saleslady's words about accentuating and support echoing through his head.

JAIRO: Five minutes, be right there.

Jairo grabs his shoes, sitting down on the bed. He leans over, chest pressing against his upper thighs as he puts the flats on. Huffing, he stands back up and looks in the mirror one last time.

A beat goes by, as he stares at what the ghost has left him with.

He gropes his chest, exhaling through his nose as he heads out the door for his date.