Scenes We'd Like To See - Original Ending
This is the original ending to the story I published last week here - https://www.sofurry.com/view/1980765
While I think it's a better fit, it's not surprising it was deemed too dark for a conbook.
Content warning - it ends with a torture scene which is bleak but not graphic in its description.
Raposa looked across the desk and glared. He breathed out deeply, a solitary vein tattooing his muzzle, quivering slightly with every broken heartbeat.
He growled, fixing a daggered stare at the subordinate in front of him. The constancy of his voice betrayed his frustration, a frustration that was only demonstrated towards the end of his speech. It was then that the drone could feel the poison in his breath.
"I want him here. I want him here now. No more excuses. No more slip-ups. That's an ORDER!"
With that, Raposa swivelled his chair to face the world - a world that looked so tiny from the fifty-third floor of his office block.
He allowed himself a wry smile. High amongst the clouds he felt at one with God, observing a scene that was of both their creations.
Looking at the scurrying ants beneath his feet, his smile cracked into a grin. He was the queen of the hive and they were making his honey. He was served by those who would die just to serve. Yet his servants could never explain why they felt so compelled.
Yes, life was pretty sweet, he thought. Like a make-believe story, this engineered world glossed over life's inconvenient truths.
After all, there's more hope in an image than there is in a reflection and as Raposa looked down, he started to laugh. For he had the apple and they were Snow White, but in this fairy-tale, the wicked witch would prevail.
Roka looked into Raev's eyes and smiled. She still couldn't believe he was here, lying naked next to her, a picture of innocence in such a perverted world. She sighed softly as she strained her ears to listen. His measured breathing was a lullaby to her heart, dissolving all the pain and loneliness that the last few months had brought.
For a moment, everything was perfect. She moved her paw to stroke his face, half-expecting it to dissolve upon touch like a reflection in a duckpond. As contact was made, her heart fluttered, causing her to reel back in surprise. No, he was here. Here at last. And this time, she wasn't going to let him go.
She stroked his muzzle softly, her smile widening as she wrapped her paws around him and squeezed tightly.
In return, he looked down and nuzzled the top of her head, a symbol of sweet intent, of gratitude for being the only one he could ever trust.
He knew that he still needed her but he couldn't let her know. She had been through enough and he didn't want to destroy this precious moment. It had been a long time coming and he wanted to preserve it. He also didn't know when they would be together again.
He was fooling no-one. Beneath the contentment, Roka knew something was wrong. Those deep azure eyes had lost their sparkle, clouded by a fear that she couldn't quite pinpoint.
She looked up at the camera mounted on the wall, hoping it would provide answers, but it just stared blankly back, revealing nothing.
She sighed. Everyone wanted their fifteen minutes of fame, but fifteen minutes can sometimes last a lifetime.
She turned her face to shield her from its gaze, burying her muzzle deep into Raev's neck fur, hoping this nightmare would soon go away.
But deep down she knew that the nightmare was far from over.
The printer whirred into life, beeping belligerently as it was disturbed from its slumber. Raposa glared, warning it not to mess with him. Seconds later, a message flashed on the Perspex screen. "TONER OUT".
"Shit! Why can't anything ever be simple?" he growled. Angry at the inconvenience, he rapaciously tore the cartridge from its moorings before masturbating it furiously, trying to force the thick liquid to come to the surface. Two minutes later he was still pounding, determined to get the job done.
As soon as he was sated, he replaced the component and continued with the task in hand, dismissing the printer like the cheapest of whores.
The machine beeped for attention but Raposa was having none of it. He needed this information and he needed it now. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when the paper finally started rolling.
The details soon followed. Name, Address, Age, Sexuality, Passport Number, National Insurance Number, National Identity Number, Driving Licence, Eye Colour, Hair Colour, Muzzle Size, Penis Size, Sperm Count, Paw Print, DNA Code, Previous Schools, Previous Jobs, every single angle was covered.
As the printer did its work, Raposa looked at the picture that accompanied the document. He saw a white-haired creature staring blankly back at him. For a brief second, he almost felt sympathy before he snapped out of his weakness and turned to walk away.
He looked again. It was hard to believe that such an insignificant looking fox could be the root of his problems. Why couldn't he just conform like the rest of them? Why did he have to question the unquestionable? Why did he have to think when it's far easier to believe?
He felt a pang of sadness before dismissing it in an instant. He knew this was necessary, that it needed to be done. It was just the way of the world. In a few short hours, the fox would be as motionless as the picture staring back at him.
The light on the camera flashed intermittently as the device whirred around to capture its prey. Roka tried her best to ignore it but she knew she could never escape its vacant stare. Not anymore.
She turned on the TV, hoping that Raev would soon wake up and be there for her. CCTV TV. Channels and channels of it from all over the world. Twenty-four hours a day, every day. It was the only thing that remained.
It had seemed a good idea at the time. In the early years of the twenty-first century, the rise of celebrity culture had given the world "reality TV". Suddenly anyone could be famous for the sake of being famous and a lot of people jumped at the chance.
However, the TV companies were accused of "dumbing down", particularly by the intelligentsia who also clamoured for their fifteen minutes of fame. Thus, competition grew for exactly the same thing and everything else was consigned to the past.
With the dawning of the digital age, it was possible to have an infinite number of channels, all catering to different markets. It also started to become cheaper and easier to film non-stop reality TV instead of commissioning actual programming. The path of least resistance is the path most taken so variety and reality became synonymous.
Somewhere in the clamour, perspective was lost. The oligarchs who ran the media outlets had been increasing their influence over governments for years and now a deal could be reached. In return for hushing up scandals, lawmakers were given direct access to official CCTV networks. And from here it was just a slippery slope.
With an increasingly benign media, one thing led to another. ID Cards, a compulsory DNA database and then legislation making it mandatory to have a camera fitted into every room of your house. How else was the government going to keep the public safe? How else was the "War on Terror" going to be won?
From civil protection to entertainment, the networks soon realised they had a ratings winner on their hands. In the 1990s, CCTV cameras had featured heavily on all the cop chase shows and the TV companies were quick to use the new laws to expand the format. Suddenly YOU were the star and you could watch your own life on TV - from "Kitchen Cam" to "Bedroom Cam" to "Toilet Cam". The problem was, everyone else could watch it too.
So now Loose Women was footage of Women's Institute meetings, Countdown involved turning off the life support machines of terminally ill people and Deal or No Deal saw footage of local scallies dealing cocaine on shadowy street corners. Reality was king, anything else didn't compete.
It also encouraged snooping, the twitching of curtains that had always existed in suburbia. The rise of the cameras gave this legitimacy as you could now spy on your street from the comfort of your couch.
Roka was no different - she knew far too much. Her neighbour had a particular thing for having the back of her knee stroked during sex. It drove her wild and due to the paucity of the walls, she could enjoy the experience in surround sound if she wanted.
She could hear the bed rocking so it was time for the omnibus edition. Sighing, she picked up the remote and tuned in. She didn't really want to see Sheryl being ridden for a millionth time but anything beat watching the security cameras in Dudley Town Centre. Okay, there was that one night when one of the banks was ram-raided but the usual fare of watching drunks vomiting in the gutter was not really her thing.
And anyway, perhaps Sheryl would try a new position or something. Granted she had had the same boring sex life for the last twenty years but perhaps tonight would be the night she would finally go wild. After all, Bob was a looker if you liked overbites and orthodontics. Surely, he could show her a new thing or two with those teeth?
She sighed again. Why was she trying to justify her natural curiosity? Why did she even care?
Should she press the red button to go interactive? That was always an experience. With multi-angles and four different commentaries, it was the ultimate sports package. Perhaps she should send a text message for £2 plus her standard network rate to see her nonsensical ramblings scroll across the bottom of the screen. That was always a thrill. "Pound her harder next time Bob - and for God's sake use dental floss". Surely this was televisual heaven.
The question was, why did she feel so unfulfilled?
Raposa strangled his mobile phone as he stared into nowhere.
"Yes, yes, I understand but I want it sorting ... Yes, uh-huh, right ... I couldn't give a monkey's about your overheads, we agreed you'd do the job ... He is a threat and I want him sorting ... So facking sort it! NOW!!"
Raposa snarled before hanging up. "Contractors. If you want a job doing, rely on a cliche."
Fifteen minutes later, Roka's heart leapt as she heard a knock on the door. Bob had just finished. Raev had just woken up.
Raev can't remember how he was taken; he just knew he was no longer where he once was.
Blindfolded and gagged, he was led silently to a chair. Roughly, they forced him to sit down before tying his paws behind his back, then to the steel frame. His legs were anchored in a similar way.
He could hear very little apart from the screams inside his head. He assumed he was in a holding corridor of some kind. He imagined a drab facade, clinical and white. In the distance, he swore he heard a cold fluorescent light humming, directing its pain in an inquisition towards him.
Suddenly, they ripped off his blindfold. Blinking furiously, it took him a few seconds to acclimatise himself. When he did, he saw a muscular grey wolf sat at a table opposite him, fondling a set of long metal pliers, a glint in his eye as steely as the implement he was caressing.
"You are Snow Fox?" he said in a mock Soviet accent. "Do you have ze briefcase, comrade?"
Raev looked on in bemusement, trying to figure out the lunatic who was staring straight at him.
"Do you have ze briefcase, comrade? Ze briefcase, you are Snow Fox, no?"
Raev whimpered softly, locked within a stare so daggered that he felt it burrowing deep into his soul.
The wolf started banging the pliers against his left paw, a leer twisting itself across his chapped features. Slowly, he rose and started to move round the table, moving closer and closer to the bound vulpine.
He screamed: "DO YOU HAVE ZE BRIEFCASE, COMRADE? ZE BRIEFCASE? YOU ARE SNOW FOX, NO? WHERE IS ZE BRIEFCASE?!"
Raev recoiled in horror, his heart pounding rhythms of despair as rivers of ice cut cold fissures through his veins. Then the wolf's demeanour completely changed.
"Let me introduce myself. My name is Raposa. Foxes like you, my friend, are a problem," he whispered softly. "Foxes like you simply don't learn. We give you everything you could possibly want yet still you want more. We give you the liberty to watch whatever the hell you like and all we ask in return is for you to let us get on with our jobs."
Raposa was barely three feet away from Raev by this stage but he filled his whole vision. He let out a muffled whimper with every encroaching step, every pace another knife into his panicking heart. His eyes darted furiously around the room, looking for an escape route when deep down he knew he was as helpless as an infant.
"You see," Raposa continued before stooping down slightly so that his muzzle made contact with Raev's, "You have caused a lot of problems for me and I don't like foxes who cause problems. I have been as reasonable as I can yet you still cause me trouble. Why do you do that Raev?"
The bound fox whimpered louder, struggling against his bindings as he felt flashes of hot spittle dart across his face. He looked deep into the sterile grey eyes before him but he had no answer. He had no hope.
Raposa took a step back and breathed heavily. He looked down at his captive and placed a firm paw under his muzzle, cupping it within a monster's grip. With eyes as cold as a Soviet tower block, he started to apply pressure underneath Raev's chin.
Raev tried to look down but the paw held his gaze firm. He could feel his jaw twisting, bone scraping against bone like fingers down a blackboard. He tried to pull away but Raposa refused, the grip increasing with each passing second, which felt more and more like each passing lifetime.
The snow fox whimpered but he knew there was no escape. Sweat formed upon his brow as the pain swelled like an angry bruise, pumping blood and oxygen into the cyst beneath his maw, increasing the torment exponentially.
Beneath him he could hear bone breaking, like the jolly sound of children stamping on autumn twigs. But the sound of laughter was more sinister than happy and as the sound reverberated around the empty shell of his mind, tears of torture welled in his draining eyes.
Raposa's breath became heavier and heavier, his grip tighter and tighter before one deft move flipped Raev over and exposed his shame to the world.
The baron looked up and nodded at his henchman, who brought a crucible of cremated dreams from the opposite corner of the room.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way," Raposa whispered into Raev's ear before stroking them softly with an outstretched claw. "I know you are a good boy but there is only one way we deal with good boys around here."
With that, he plunged the pliers deep into the burning cinders, all the while tracing delicate paths around Raev's ear, carving contours through his tortured soul.
He held the instrument there for what seemed like an eternity whilst Raev's face reflected a panic that would shatter the strongest of mirrors.
"It's just better this way," the henchman said. "I'm sure you understand..."
Raposa looked back at Raev struggling in the chair and cast his mind back to the lifeless picture he had seen on the print out.
He looked down at his hostage and casually twirled his tail around his paw, the way Roka used to do. He must have seen it on TV. Grabbing hold of it softly, he gently followed it up towards the base, making Raev shiver in arousal. In that moment, he yearned to see his beloved once again.
And as Raposa lifted up Raev's tail and placed the searing scissors upon tender flesh, tears of agony flooded from the snow fox's eyes.
Whether they were tears of pain or tears of pity it didn't matter. Everything was over.
And in the corner of the room, there was no camera...