FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

• Part 0 -

The soft glow of neon lights hitting the hotel's balcony painted the drab scene of a drained tiger standing, defeated, his gaze amiss in the concrete streets below. He nursed his last cigarette.

Not even the strokes of his partner's hands on his rough fur could lift his spirits.

He looked at the feline in all of his gloriousness. The deep gold tone, the abundant black markings of his fur.

"I take it that didn't help ya?" His partner asked.

There was a long moment of silence as the tiger took another puff. "No. I don't think I can take it anymore."

"Ya can go back to your place, ya know?"

"And leave you to work on your own?" He exhaled. "I don't think I could do that."

"Desi, ya know I can handle myself. Go back home. I'll take care of everything the boss asked for."

"But she asked me to-"

The tiger was cut off by the sharp feeling of the other biting his neck. "I'll take care of that too, big guy. Ya don't need to worry."

He pondered on the offer for a good minute. Being forced to stay in the Oxton's revolting innards wasn't pleasant. He could barely even bring himself to focus while there, and perhaps his partner had realized it, at least after that night.

"You really don't have to do any of this." The tiger said.

"Just leave it to me and the guys, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Ya know I am."

-Part 1-

-Kim-

Nothing in this life is more soul crushing than the dread of sleeping on the streets, which might as well be considered a death sentence in this city, and never had this dread been more prevalent than in the past few weeks.

As much as everyone liked to brag about how the Oxton district was a hub for opportunities and home of "many success stories", the place was far from generous when it came to giving those out, and Kim was a shining example of how things really were.

There is a limit to how much rejection a man can take, an unspecified number of times he can be told no or be "politely" declined. Job offer after job offer, he was either "lacking what they were looking for", "Not as promising as other candidates" and his favorite one "We would rather not specify the reason", all with a varying degree of formality and passive aggressiveness.

He was ready to accept his fate as he walked back to his dingy apartment that one depressing week, as the jingling of his keys reminded him of everything that was going to be lost and what had been lost many years ago. But in a non-so tragic turn of events something was able to pick him back up. An unprofessionally made flier, slapped onto a wall with a weak looking font, and an overly desperate message that tried to hide itself between promises of something worthwhile.

In your darkest hours, you take what you can get, even if the pay is specified to be "uncertain" and "hopefully fulfilling". You take your chances, no questions asked.

Requirements to qualify for the job were as simple as sending an application letter, something he was so used to by now that he had taken the time to prepare multiple, which would be "carefully inspected" and other bureaucratic stuff he did not care to read too much into. All that mattered was just a day after sending it a small letter slid under his door which pretty much begged him to come to a "personalized interview" the following week.

The week prior to his "interview" went by in a flash, and he could not remember half of it. Perhaps it was related to him spending much of it drinking the cheapest brand of wine he could find, around 200 cixes, a fair price for a run of the mill wine box. He was not aware of how many boxes he had consumed, the pile was way too big to be worth the effort.

None of this mattered anymore though, if everything went well today, he might be able to look back at this day and laugh, sitting in his stained couch with an actual wine bottle in hand. He would be living the life, to an extent.

It took a few hours of traversing through the district's crowded streets to reach his destination, but eventually he managed to see it. A bakery stood in front of him, it carried a whole other set of buildings on top of it, a rather unprofessional work of architecture, but then again, maybe things had changed since was gone, it was hard to tell.

He opened the glass door, instantly being hit by the sweet smell of pastries and freshly cooked bread, aromas that could easily bring back memories that were locked behind bars for a reason.

Behind the counter stood a small mink, despite the fact that he was,from the looks of it, standing on a stool he still couldn't reach above Kim's chest, he was a tall horse after all, one of the very few things he could take pride on.

The small mammal waved at the horse, "What can I do for you today sir?" He said in a high pitched voice that somehow carried an unbelievable amount of authority to it.

"I'm here on special business." Saying it like that felt dumb, in addition to slightly illegal.

"Oh, it's been a while since I heard that." You could tell by the mink's voice that he was desperately trying to hold back a laugh, "Just go through that door, the one behind yesterday's bread shelf." He said, pointing to the shelf in question, the bread looked stale and hard, it's aroma had already vanished by the time the lights went out, there was an analogy that could be made with this, but again he couldn't be bothered.

He slipped behind the display and opened the door revealing a cramped hallway that led into an old set of wooden stairs. He climbed them until he was met with another door, this one had a small plaque dangling on it that read "Odd Jobs And Rehabilitation Inc. - OJRI for short", meaning that he had finally reached his destination. If the fact that the door looked as decrepit as the one in his appartment and that they worked from a bakery's attic didn't make it clear enough, his faith for this "association" wasn't as high as he would've liked it to be.

There was a worrying amount of silence coming from behind the door, he would've thought that someone was playing a sick prank on him had it not been for the audible groan that was heard once he knocked on the door. Mere seconds later a giraffe with her neck slouched received him. She was wearing a black two-piece suit, awfully formal for a place like this.

She inspected him for a second, "Oh, you're the horse." She sighed, gesturing for him to come in, "The boss is waiting for you." The lack of enthusiasm in her voice was a great way to boost his confidence.

With a nod he entered the office, only for the rest of the hope he had left to vanish as he saw the lowly state of the place. Clutter everywhere, four rotting wood desks, only one of them outfitted with a computer that was almost as old as him, not to mention the awful combination of that dreadful navy-blue carpet flooring and yellowish looking wooden walls. This place was, for lack of a better word, a relic from the past.

As much as he would've liked to critique the office's embarrassing design, something was calling for him. Another door, this one had a window looking out at the aforementioned office, most likely leading to the bosses personal office. The existence of the window would've made sense in any other place, but not here, unless the boss had an interest in looking at their only employee looking depressed while doing nothing, then again, he was well aware of the existence of those kinds of animals...

He opened the door and was met with a squeak and the presence of the "boss" sitting comfortably on his chair. He was a ginger white cat with a peculiar eyepatch over his left eye, his smile was welcoming, but in the same way a shady business man's smile would, not only that, but his tacky suit and worn out silver watch didn't do him any favors. There was something else in his smile though, perhaps a bit of desperation? It looked like it.

"Hey there! The name's Magister, you can call me Maggi though," The feline beamed, his voice as high pitched as they came. "I take it you're Kim, right? Why don't you take a seat?"

With a nod the horse followed the feline's command sitting in what could easily be described as one of the most uncomfortable chairs he had ever had the displeasure of seating on. This, given everything else he had seen, didn't really surprise him, to be honest he expected to have to be standing during the entire interview, so at least this was better than nothing.

"Give me a second, I'm pretty sure I've got your cover letter somewhere under here." He said as he rummaged under his desk, only to pull out the letter the horse had sent only one week ago. "There we go."

He placed it on the desk. Looking at it he saw that under where he had signed it, there was an "approved" written in red in addition to a question mark.

"It's been a while since we had an applicant as promising as you, or any applicant for that matter." The feline nodded.

"That sounds promising."

"Way I see it, it means more work for you. If ya get the job that is."

"I had a suspicion you were going to say that. Given this thing." He said pointing at the approved and it's annoying little question mark.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that." The feline sounded genuinely embarrassed about it. "See, I was so excited to have ya on board that I kind of skipped a few steps on the recruitment thing. You see, we need confirmation that you can pull your weight first."

"You're saying you don't think I'm good enough?"

"Far from it. To be completely honest with ya, if it were up to me I would give ya the job right now, but given our current-" he pointed at the door with the glass window, "-situation, we can't afford to let ya in right away."

Indeed, it was quite a situation.

"I just want to make sure you can carry yourself around well. You know, get work done. You've been in the slammer for 23 years after all, ya might be a little rusty."

It had really been 23 years? Yes, of course it had... Kim scratched his neck. He could still feel the burn on it. He would never be able to forget how flesh had been ripped, how he was robbed of the mark, along with everything else.

"What do you have in mind?" Kim asked.

"It's quite simple. You do a job, we see how well you did, and then you sign in. Easy as that."

"And you already have a job in mind?"

"As a matter of fact I do." The feline reclined in his chair. "Remi will let you in on the details."

"I'm assuming Remi's the giraffe?"

"Ya got it."

And with a nod the horse rose from the back destroying grasp of the chair and left the feline's office. He could only imagine what sort of job they had in store for him. The flier mentioned something about being ready to work in unconventional situations and he was maybe a little bit concerned, but then again, he had done some "interesting" work in the past, so maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

The giraffe was preoccupied doing something in the office's only computer, but she quickly dropped her "hardwork" when he approached. She grabbed a coffee mug that had clearly seen better days and looked at him. "He's already done with his speech? It usually takes longer than that."

"There wasn't a lot to talk about to be honest."

The giraffe chuckled. "Oh, just you wait until you join us, then you'll see. You are taking the offer, right?"

Kim nodded.

"Great, I'll give you the client's locationt." She ripped a piece of paper from a book (it was a politics study so nothing of value was lost) and started scribbling on it. "He refused to elaborate on what the job was so please refrain from taking it if it involves murdering someone. Ok?"

***

This time he decided to catch a cab to the client's location, he had already done too much walking today. Was it a good financial decision? Far from it. Many things had changed during his absence, but if there was something that didn't it was the ludicrous amounts of cixes your fare would net you, it was even more than he remembered. He sure hoped that they would pay him for this, because if not, he would have to spend the rest of the month eating stale bread and, if push came to shove dumpster diving, which was far from ideal. He was no HoboHorse, and he wanted to keep it that way.

The cab speeded away, off to go on its own little adventure, leaving the horse in front of a large apartment complex, the place where his alleged client resided.

It was a rather mundane place, grimy walls that overlooked a poorly kept street abundant with traffic and dozens of animals of varying levels of shadiness, which wasn't a problem with this zone in particular, but of the district itself. You would assume that a society drenched in late stage corporatocracy would be better off.

A gust of putrid street air brushed against the horse's dark brown fur, pushing his brain away from dilemmas that were far beyond his reach, reminding him that there was a job to be done. There was no use in delaying it any further.

He pulled the piece of paper from his discolored green jacket and read it one more time to make sure; Room 224 Bhelling Complex.

With a nod to himself the horse made his way inside.

There was almost an immediate change in atmosphere as soon as he entered through the complex's big glass door. The decaying smell of the streets was replaced with the equally depressing smell of cigarettes and booze, it smelled like home. He passed by a canine mopping the floor where a bottle of cheap wine (it was actually the bottled edition of the one he had last night), the dark liquid had also stained the walls.

Traversing through the apartment's unkempt floors under the veil of the barely functioning ceiling lights and after going up five floors he reached it. Room 224.

The lights flickered as he knocked on the door. Mere moments later there was a quiet beep as the light on the door's rusty electric lock turned from red to green. A tired looking hare peaked through the half open door.

"Who are you?" He barked in a nasally voice.

"My name's Kim, I'm working with OJRI. I take it you have business with us."

The hare's ears perked up as he quickly opened the door. "Took you guys long enough." He said leaving his room and closing the door behind him. "Come on, we gotta bounce."

"Hold your horses." Kim stopped him. "You haven't told me what I'm doing yet."

He towered over the hare, something that could've easily managed to fool anyone else, but not this hare, he knew Kim wasn't in control, you could see it in his eyes. "I'll tell you on our way to the love hotel pal." He replied, sprinting through the hallway with his, clearly too big for him, gray coat dragging on the dirty floor.

It took the horse a moment to process what he had said, "Love hotel?" Did they trick him into prostitution? Given the overall shadiness of the OJRI offices he wouldn't be all that surprised. "Why would WE be going to a love hotel together?"

The hare stopped and looked him dead in the eyes, "I'm not going with YOU, horse." He snapped. "Just follow me to the damn car now, will you?"

Why take him to a love hotel then? Kim had his doubts. Would he be ok with doing sex work if push came to shove? Or was the hobohorse path more desirable? Perhaps he could ponder about this later...

After taking the elevator (he had assumed the thing didn't work before, given his own experiences with them) they reached the complex's underground parking lot, a sad little oasis of working-class cars guarded by a lonely ox that sat on a folding chair that looked almost as uncomfortable as the one in Maggi's office.

He followed the hare to his car. It was small, very much so, as you would expect from a small citizen vehicle. The passenger seat had to be lowered in order for Kim to even begin to fit inside, and even then, he had to lay on his back getting a nice view of the car's roof. Very comfortable.

"So, you're going to tell me what I'm doing?" Kim started.

He could feel the car's engine humming as the hare pulled out, the vibrations felt nice. "I need a bodyguard."

"A bodyguard? In a love hotel?"

"Yes."

"Why? Please tell me this isn't a thing you're into."

"It's not that. It's a bit more complicated."

"What is it then? I need to at least know what I'll be looking out for, you know?"

The hare sighed, "I think my wife's going to send someone in to kill me."

"What?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"You-" he was looking for a good way to say this, but there really wasn't. "You're cheating on your wife?"

"It's not cheating." There was a shift in the hare's tone, something akin to a growl, it sounded wrong coming from such a small animal. "We had an agreement."

"What do you mean with agreement?"

"We agreed that I could do this every month or so. It's a casual thing, no feelings involved." Kim could see the reflection of the hare's scowl in the rearview mirror. "But oh look at her, she gets all mad and acts like a bitch everyday. And she AGREED to it."

"But you're still cheating on her..."

"You don't know anything about our relationship horse," he spat.

Yeah, he didn't know anything about it, he didn't know anything about relationships period... there was a slight tinge of something in his shoulder, but the thought that accompanied it was swiftly discarded.

The horse shook his head, "So you think she's sending someone in to end you because of this?"

"Yes."

"Do you really think she would? Maybe you're exaggerating things a little."

"You don't know how she is. And I heard the conversation she had the other day, recorded the call and everything."

That didn't really work in the client's favor now, did it?

"Well, if you're so sure that it's going to happen then why go to the place anyway?"

"Because I'm not letting her control my life."

"You're not going to get much control over your life if you end up dead, you know that?"

"That's why I paid for your services, pal."

He did have a point there.

Perceiving the horse's silence the hare started talking again. "And you know what THE WORST part is? If it had been her idea nothing would've happened, I swear, I don't know what's gotten into her. Oh and don't get me started on---"

At this point the hare started describing in great detail many of his wife's unpleasant qualities and he went on and on, through the entire trip. Eventually Kim just stopped paying attention to him, it wasn't worth the hassle, right now more pressing matters were on his mind, for example, the fact that he would probably be forced into a confrontation with a trained hitman, or maybe more. If he had to guess, given where the hare and his wife lived, they didn't really have much of a budget, so maybe only one animal? Again, hard to tell. What he did know however was that peaceful negotiations were out of the question, not that he would have anything to negotiate with mind you, but still.

If anything, he had a feeling that he already knew what was going to happen. The twitching on his muscles and the unrest in his knuckles made it clear.

The hare parked his car near the hotel's entrance where a zebra dressed in a bright red dress was waiting for him.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, she lifted him up and engaged in what could only be described as the most passionate make out session the horse had ever witnessed. Seems like those two were missing the part where they were supposed to do that part in the hotel room. Kim rolled his eyes.

After that little scene the trio entered the hotel. Inside the ambiance was heavy with the smell of cheap incense and a chorus of animals coming from its depths that only seemed to get louder as they approached the reception desk, where an ibex ram dressed in a lousy red vest with a white shirt sat, half empty cup of coffee in his hand and baggy eyes.

The zebra approached the desk and crouched a little so that the hare could be at eye level with the sleep deprived receptionist. There was a tired sigh followed by the sound of keys rattling behind the desk and after a few seconds of excruciating awkwardness the ram fished out the key to room 132 and handed it to his client, with overwhelming enthusiasm.

With the key now in their possession they ventured into the innards of the hotel. With every step they took the sounds grew louder, to the point where their footsteps were muffled by the incoherent amount of moans and whatnot. Another thing that was rather odd was the size of the whole place, he was pretty sure they had to climb four sets of stairs to reach the hare's room. Was the world of getting it outside of your place really that popular? Maybe he hadn't been around to see it blow up, yeah that might explain it.

"We're gonna step in, horse." The hare said, opening room 132's door while still being carried by his no feelings involved partner, "We would invite you in, but you have work to do."

He wouldn't have joined them either way.

The door slammed as they vanished into the room, a small red light above the room number lit up.

Kim wasn't all that interested in hearing what was going on in there so he made sure to stay as far away from the door as he could, which was easier said than done, given everything he heard here he was far from surprised when he somehow caught a sound of what was going on in there. For his own sake he tried to focus on something else.

So far nothing interesting has happened. The old Kim would've been incredibly paranoid in a situation like this, but by now he had grown used to being on full alert at all times, or something like that. The point was, whoever this hitman was, if they existed in the first place, they would have to get through him, and he wasn't going to make it easy.

He lit up a cigarette, his last one to be precise. He was forced to get the cheapest brand available, a Blue Nail, but despite that he had grown to appreciate the bloody things. A single cigarette could fetch you a whole slew of things when you were behind bars. It was the easiest way to make friends too, give anyone one of these bad boys and they would stand by you, no matter what piss poor brand you were dealing with.

If only those rules applied to the "free world".

In the haze of his smoke, he saw them. A group of four felines dressed in all manner of flashy looking suits, all of them having at least one article of clothing dripping with a horrid lilac color.

They stopped a few meters away from him.

"Can I help you with something?" Kim asked.

"Just wonderin' if ya waitin' for someone horsey." Said one of them, a cheetah by the looks of it, "Your date stood ya up or somethin'?"

"Something like that."

"Then ya might want to leave. No use stikin' around."

"I don't think I will." He took the last puff of his cigarette, "I like the atmosphere here."

The cheetah smirked, "yeah good for ya buddy. But you're ruinin' the mood."

"Oh, I didn't know I was keeping you four from getting it on." He threw the cigarette bud on the ground and stepped on it, "I don't think I'll be leaving though."

There was a gesture from the cheetah and then two of the other felines pulled out some fancy looking knives, "Ya sure about that buddy?"

"Pretty sure."

"Have it your way then. Boys, ya know what to do." He signaled as the other three stepped forward.

For al he knew these four could've had nothing to do with the "assassination" but at this point it couldn't hurt to teach them some moral.

One of the felines took the initiative and lunged at him with the knife a thing he had grown accustomed to, thought normally it would be with improvised shivs, a simple dodge to the right then holding the feline's wrist a small hit on the shoulder a swift move of the knee and his elbow snapped, after that reducing him to the ground and stomping his head and he was done.

Then the other two, seeing their associate dispatched of so quickly, lunged at him in unison, still not enough to catch him off guard, once you get used to fighting multiple animals at the same time a small group of unskilled thugs becomes a trivial endeavor.

He dodged out of the way of the knife and behind the two felines, elbowed the knife kitty in the back of the neck and offered the other one a kick in the back of his left leg making him lose balance. The sound of the knife falling was masked by the loud thud of his user following suit.

The feline that arguably received the least painful treatment, that being the kick in the legs, was up for his second dose, being grabbed from behind and suplexed, hitting his head on the wall, just as he was trying to regain his footing, needless to say he wasn't going to do that now.

There was a brief moment of respite as the horse stood calmly over the three incapacitated felines, the look on the cheetah's face eluded him.

"Ya think you're hot shit horse?" he barked, "Cause you're in for a world of hurt."

"If your friends here are anything to go by, I sincerely doubt that."

"Oh, we'll see about that." He reached out for something from under his horrid lilac suit and pulled out a set of brass knuckles, "Don't worry about yer medical bills, ya won't be needin' them where you're going."

A ferocious strike was directed to Kim's face, he managed to move out of its way, but he didn't have as much luck with the one directed at his gut. He was left breathless as the knuckles impacted and in mere seconds, he found himself on the ground, lying beside the three unconscious felines.

"How does that feel, horsey?!" He spat kicking Kim on the ribs.

It hurt, but this was far from the first time this had happened.

He had many options, but only one seemed worthy of this lowly feline.

A powerful kick in the groin followed by a guttural scream confirmed the horse's strategy.

After that it was nothing more than a kip-up and a bit of improvisation, that being grabbing his head and slamming it against door 132 breaking the red light in the feline's face.

And then he fell to the ground face down, in between two of his henchmen.

Suddenly room 132's door opened, revealing an almost fully undressed hare with a look of pure anger in his eyes, that of a man that had been robbed of his only good night of the month. He didn't even flinch when he saw the four unconscious felines laying on the floor.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed your little night out sir, I was just helping these guys out," Kim said. "Now, what about we leave this place, I'm sure you could finish your business somewhere else."

"You gotta be kidding me."

***

"I have to say Kim, I'm pleasantly surprised that you managed to get that done as well as you did." Maggi said, pouring both him and Kim a glass of the cheapest whisky money could buy, "I knew you had it in you."

"Thank you sir." He nodded.

Taking a whiff of the whisky the feline had gotten was enough to make his stomach churn, he could only imagine how much this would burn, but that wasn't bad, far from it, he liked it when it burned. Burn it all down, and all that jazz.

"Hey, no need to keep the formalities, Kimmy." He said, "You got the job now, so we're pretty much family."

He wasn't entirely sure that he liked that 'Kimmy' part, but he would entertain the feline's notion, he did give him the job after all, "I don't think it works that way, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"You'll be surprised to hear this, but that's how it's always worked in this company." He smirked and raised his glass. "I think a little drink is in order."

A little drink was always in order.

"It's about damn time." Kim raised his glass.

"For a year of many jobs and whatever else comes our way. Cheers!"

The two clinked their drinks and gulped down the cheap whisky. It burned his insides as it slid down his dry throat, but it was so good. He couldn't remember the last time he drank with someone else, it made it feel all the more emotional somehow, like if they were signing a contract with each other, which was technically what they had done mere minutes earlier. But this was different, it was more of a contract of the soul, if that made any kind of sense. It did to Kim at least.

---

He had been out cold for a while now, maybe a few minutes? It felt like way more than that.

Who even was that horse? He didn't recognize him from any family, or at least he didn't have anything that could help associate him with any...

There was something weird on the ground... this metallic taste, it was blood, wasn't it? He did receive quite a beating didn't he?

He opened his eyes and looked to his left, Xavier had been the first to be knocked out, and his head was lying on a... on a puddle of blood? The horse did stomp him, but it wasn't that hard now, was it?

Suddenly his ears perked up as he heard something, a squeamish sound to his right. He moved his head with as little energy as he had, and he saw it, a puddle of warm blood starting to form under Don's head.

He didn't like the look of tha-

He felt something being pressed at the back of his head.

This couldn't be.

Why him?

Why-