FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Note by the Author

thank you for reading this. this is my first attempt at writing something, and I'm glad I found a place to share it. I promise this will get more exciting and will have Anthro characters in the future- this is a part one attempt, and I need to figure the whole writing thing figured out.

If you have any criticisms or comments on how I can improve my writing, please comment and let me know.

Stalker (pt 1)

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a smokey sky, the color of charcoal.

I slowly sat up, then fell back down. A large, corrugated metal sheet covered my legs.

I slowly pushed it off me, after some effort, and looked around.

I appeared to be in a city, but a destroyed one; the ugly concrete buildings that were typical of my country lay in ruins, or torn with blacked, ugly craters. Cars laid in the roads, immobile, destroyed or on fire. Charred corpses sat in grotesque positions, trying to reach an unknown destination they would never reach.

What had happened here?

After a brief look around, I inspected myself. I had no weapons, just my old gray camouflage fugitives, my battered rucksack, along with my old utility belt. In addition to all that, I was wearing my scratched steel helmet, and an old MF27 gas mask that I used was attached to my bag. My old, scratched 'custom' wristwatch was there on my arm as well, which was good, because I would need it. The bad news, however, was that the bag was completely empty.

This is probably one of the worst situations I could be in without a weapon or supplies.

Either way, weapon or not, I needed to move.

I slipped my MF27 on, to help filter out the ash in the air. The visor was slightly cracked from use.

The thing was industrial grade, not military, and I had been told many times to switch it out, for it was old and inefficient. But the mask had gone with me to hell and back; I wasn't going to leave it, even if I was given the best gas mask.

I slipped on and secured the straps. Now that the air I was breathing was clean, it was far easier to breathe. I took a slow breath in, then out, trying to figure out my next move.

I appeared to be in a town square of some kind. A cracked porcelain fountain dominated the middle of it, still gushing water from its cracked top. The few trees that were here were entirely stripped of all leaves. A road was on both the north and south sides of the square, leading to who knows where.

Looking at the destruction, I began considering the cause of all the destruction. All the evidence so far pointed to a nuclear bomb, from what I had seen. The only thing that contradicted all that was my watch. Long ago, I had hooked up a small Geiger Counter to it, and cleaned it daily. The Geiger meter was still; no noise erupted from it, the way it should have been if there was even a trace of radiation at all in the air or nearby.

Still, even if there was no radiation, it was still best to find a safe, secure shelter as soon as possible. I was incredibly exposed out in the open, which, of course, was only made worse by the fact I would barely be able to defend myself if I was attacked.

After some indecision, I elected to follow the north road, and head east. As I walked down the road, the buildings gradually became less damaged, still torn with craters but not on the verge of collapsing at the lightest touch, which was good. More likely I would find shelter here.

After a bit of walking, something caught my eye; in the trailer of a gutted four wheeler.

I could see a flash of metal that looked suspiciously like-

I walked over, stepping over shards of broken glass from a smashed sedan's windshield, and peered inside.

A small hunting knife was laying there, on the lip of a broken box. It almost seemed to be trying to tempt me;

Go on. Take me. End another creature's life. It's your job, isn't it?

I didn't hesitate. I reached my hand in through the burning wreckage and managed to snag it. It was slightly warm, like it itself was emanating it.

I heard a growl behind me. I turned my head slowly, heart dropping.

Two large Timberwolves stood in an alleyway, glaring at me. I stared back at them. Nothing moved.

I began walking. They followed, slowly at first, but as I moved faster, so did they. Soon, we all were running.

In desperation, I vaulted over a wall, ran a gauntlet of alleyways, and ended up at a wide road.

A small apartment caught my eye. It looked in far better condition than that of the surrounding buildings. Perhaps I could take cover in there?...

I ran inside, slamming the heavy wooden door shut. I took a quick look around as I locked the dead bolt.

It was a small concrete room. A tattered couch was flipped over in the center of the room, and a smashed lamp was lying on its side in a large end table.

A darkened room was on the far wall. Another doorway was on my right, but it was completely caved, leaving me no choice on what to do. It was either the dark room or the wolves.

I knew which choice was the best.

I walked over to the dark room, breathless and heart pounding.

The dark room, after my eyes managed to adjust to the light, proved to be a stairwell. It was littered with broken shards of glass and concrete. From what I could tell, it went up about three stories.

Without skipping a beat, I pounded up the stairs, maneuvering past rubble and glass.

The second story- collapsed. The third however...

I reached the top landing. Two doors, both closed, one red, one white...

I put my hand on the white doorknob, then snatched it back. It was boiling hot.

Red door it is.

I opened the door to a small, well furnished apartment. I was both surprised and amused at the quality of the furniture. Mahogany chairs, a large, luxurious table...

Clearly I was in a rich idiots apartment.

I opened a kitchen cabinet as a test.

It was filled to the limit with expensive cans of Kamchatka, a type of crab.

I looked around. There were two other rooms: a bathroom, and a room with a closed door.

I opened it and nearly threw up.

The stench of rotting flesh and the iron smell of blood.

Inside, a decapitated man was lying across a silk bed, clutching an American 12 gauge in his stone cold hands, unbloodied from its last act.

In a corner, a smaller, female corpse clutched the remains of two tiny corpses. They all had been killed with one blast...

Not daring to breathe, I wrenched the shotgun from the man's hands and stumbled out of the room, slamming the door shut.

I slid the gas mask off my face, gasping for air. I stood there for a moment, gasping like fish on land, then slid the mask back on.

I examined the shotgun. It was old, well used, and rusted.

But a weapon was a weapon, after all.

I slid the pump back, which gave a satisfying shick-shick. A red shell fell lightly to the floor.

I had no idea how many shells were left in the gun, but assumed it was kept fully loaded. I hadn't seen any other shell's around, so I figured, based on the module, there were at least 4 shots left...

That was good enough.

I helped myself to the dead family's food. They had no need of it, after all, and it was a shame to let such good food go to waste, after all.

I slid cans of pickled beets, onions, and some other stuff into my rucksack. Maybe I could make a stew?

After a brief few minutes, I had filled my bag to an amount that I was satisfied with.

I moved back to the door, and listened.

Everything was silent. It was eerie, I thought, on how only dead cities like this could have the silence that seemed to permeate everything, like it was dust other than sound.

I slowly and silently moved down the stairs, step by step. Wolves could be silent, I had learned, and the last thing I needed was an ambush. Best if I could take them by surprise.

But to my surprise they weren't there. Once I reached the first first floor, I peered out. The door was still locked and closed, and not a sound could be heard on the other side.

I looked out through the door through a hole. I only saw destroyed apartments and burning cars.

I tentatively stepped outside.