FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

New Start

He didn't remember waking. It was just now a state of waking. Awareness from nothing as far as he could know. Breathing was impossible. Panic set in as he felt no function in trying to breath. He starred around the room, looking for something to help. He was still fighting for control of his limbs. He felt stiff all over, so he merely rolled out of the uncomfortable metal slate he was laying on. At the back of his head, a bundle of wires were digging into him. He pulled the cord out of him. He began crawling towards a closed window, his futile attempts to gasp for breath were silent. The only sounds in the room were the whirring of computers, the air conditioning and the metallic sounds that were coming from the floor as he made his way to the panel. There was a sliding door beside the window.

Sounds of the busy city filled the room as the electronic door slid open. His body tingled as he began to feel the warm night air. Pins and needles all over his body as the numbness was wearing off. He tried in vain to fill his lungs. It was now that he realized that he didn't need it. He hadn't breathed since he awoke and he felt no different. He felt fine. He looked down at himself to fine that he was not flesh, but some kind of soft metallic material. His hands were robotic. He touched his fingers together to see that they had some give, like tightly woven Kevlar, and maybe silicone. He could feel them a little more and more as the seconds went by. He looked out over the balcony to see an unfamiliar city. As tall as the building he was in, the buildings continued to tower above him. Cars flew by in a line, following some glowing lights. A few blimps with ads were floating beside another large apartment complex across a freeway that was on the ground below where some flightless cars were stuck in traffic.

Him. It was like muscle memory to think about. Consciousness, a sense of self. At least he was aware, sentient. He had no real memories, but this was a start. He felt over himself, trying to learn about himself. His face was flat, round, like a large glassy egg in the front. The back was mostly solid with some sliding mechanisms, places to insert things, he guessed. Looking down to see that he was genderless, though still felt exposed being naked. He crawled back into the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

"I think, therefore I am." A voice came from him as he tried to speak. It didn't feel like speaking to him, but the voice was similar to the voice in his head. He was capable of inner monologue, which felt like a good thing.

He slowly stood up. It took a few tries, but eventually balance came to him. It was dark in the room. With the only lights being small computer screens.

"Lights." He said aloud.

Suddenly the room was filled with bright white light.

He shielded where he felt his eyes were from it. His eyes, or whatever they were, adjusted quickly.

The room was mostly empty, except for a large amount of electronics and two beds. One was the metal slab he awoke on. The other was a bed with a corpse on it.

The cadaver was a fox, he was naked, wires were connected to his head. The skull was opened, worked on. There was blood, but it seemed to have dried. He could smell the stench of death once he thought about it. Though it didn't make him woozy like he thought it should. The man on the bed looked like he'd been days for days, undisturbed.

"Poor guy." He thought knowing that was once him.

There was a durable looking briefcase at the foot of the bed. At the other end of the room was another couple doors. One was a sliding door which was open to reveal a closet. He didn't like feeling so naked, so he went through the closet first. The clothing was a little loose, but it felt normal to be dressed. Most of the clothing were suits, but he ended up with some sweats, a hoodie and sneakers. They were the warmest things he could find.

He walked back over to the suitcase. It didn't have any combination locks, but it did have some kind of finger print scanner. He looked over to the body on the bed. He brought the heavy case over to the fox, placing it on the dead man's bad. He tested the foxes fingers on the scanner, but had no results. He looked at his own thumbs and saw that there were prints on them. He placed his thumb onto the scanner.

There was a high pitched ding and a click. The case cracked open. Inside he saw parts of a sniper rifle, a heavy pistol and a few clips of ammo set in foam. There was a Polaroid of a Lion with the name, "Dimitri Fowler" Written on it. The photo looked like it was taken from a distance as he was walking through some busy street. There was an empty slot in the foam with the words HD written above it.

He looked around to see the computer set up. The screen was black except for a single line of text: "mem.data transfer failed, please restart transfer process"

There was a hard-drive connected to it with "MEMORIES" written on tape, attached to the small black box.

There was pounding on the door. The bot looked up towards it and heard a voice from the other side shout, "Police, open up!"

Whatever was going on, it probably wasn't something he wanted to be a part of. He took the hard-drive from the desk, slotting it into the case.

"Manager here yet?" the voice came from behind the door.

Time was running out. A quick scan of the room revealed little in terms of clues. He tossed the photo back into the case before sealing it back up. He walked back onto the balcony, looking for a route downwards. The thought of talking to the cops gave him an uneasy feeling, so he decided against it. He looked down from the balcony, it would be a climb, but if he were careful he could do it. He made one final glance into the window, jumping onto a balcony below as he saw the door be thrown open.

It took some time, but most of the patrons were asleep, or their lights were off. The entrance to the building was swarming with cops, but he was far enough away that he didn't get their attention. He pulled the hood over his head and walked away. He thought of a plan, hoping the hard-drive he had could pull some answers. Or perhaps confront Dimitri Fowler. He only had some brief instances of muscle memory, some instincts. For now, they would have to be enough.