FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

MhortaE "Hell for a Hare"

Up ahead. Right there!

The officer squinted and lowered his head to peer through the windshield. His hands still firmly gripped the wheel. Lights in the parking lot of a strip-mall were flickering; as if the electricity was failing; but they seemed to be faltering in sections at a time. He'd never seen something like this before while on patrol. Nodding to himself, he decided to pull into the lot and thought it was a proper time to enact some Officer Badass on the scene. His squad-car came to a quiet halt between the lines, the soft rumble and hiss of its engine dying down. Headlights flashed for a moment, but he shut them off.

The canine caught sight of a shady-looking figure, wearing some kind of hooded parka, quickly moving just out of view when caught by the glows of the officer's headlights. Perhaps it was a trench-coat instead? It was difficult to tell, but the red trim along the black material suggested a parka. It was always with the long coats for these sorts, wasn't it?

The officer groaned inwardly. He grabbed his flashlight and clicked open the door. Damn kids, screwing around like they own the fucking city. Now he finally had a chance to catch one of them. A smirk spread across his brown muzzle, the Doberman making sure his badge was in place.

It had looked like a teenager, so he wasn't too worried. Anarchy tags had been turning up all over town lately and this was probably one of the perps responsible. Well, a little taste of the consequences ought to put the "rebels" in their places. Flashlight was flicked on with his thumb, the nearby lights of the parking lot perfectly useless. He raised it to his shoulder and stepped around the corner of the stone bathroom-shack his vehicle had parked by; believing rightly so that the kid tried to hide behind it. His ears perked up and his smirk changed to a frown when he found nobody there.

His first immediate response was to raise the flashlight toward the lot, looking to see if he could spot somebody running away. Nobody!

Annoyed at the idea that maybe he was being screwed with, the officer checked the next corner; then circled back quickly to check the other sides. Strange, he thought as he straightened up and furrowed his brows. It suddenly became a little chillier, but he didn't pay it any attention as he checked the doors. Still locked, what's going on? he questioned himself, I know I saw someone around here.

His flashlight started to falter, electrically crackling as if a wire had become exposed. He snorted with growing annoyance and nearly swore. Was there anything else that was going to fuck up tonight?

There was a rattle behind him. He turned in an instant, but the canine had only opportunity to see the flash of metal; fast followed by a surge of pain from his face.

He opened his mouth to shout out while dropping the flashlight. It clicked off against the ground on impact. The officer tried to fight back while holding his face; but then he felt something hook up into his muzzle. It pierced through the flesh and stabbed into the roof of his mouth just behind the bones of the jaw. Pain blinded him and he felt blood running down his neck or filling into his mouth.

Fuck, that hurt!

His attacker jerked him forward on the weapon and extraordinary pressure speared up into his chest. The snap of a ribcage cracked through the air like a whip's bite, followed shortly by a splatter of blood.

Everything went black in an instant. Another name X'd out from the reaper's list.

~=†=~

They had urged her not to go. It felt like somebody bad was going to happen if she did, but breaking the rules was all about being bad; liberating oneself from the limitations of society. Anarchy was its own game, and Alyshia wasn't going to let anybody get in the way of how she played it.

Not her friends.

Not her parents.

And sure as fuck, not any pigs-in-uniform.

It was dark, night had fallen and her bag was packed full for tagging; to spread the message of true freedom. The white-furred hare hopped out her window and dropped carefully behind the bushes just outside. She waited for a moment to see if her parents had noticed, before shutting the window and replacing the screen. Smirking to herself at the accomplishment of escaping her prison, Alyshia flipped the screwdriver in her hand and shoved it back into her bag before dashing off into the evening streets.

The neighborhood was quiet and still, but this wasn't where she intended to put up her message. A few failing streetlights illuminated the road with shades of orange glows, the summer night almost warm enough to make wearing her favorite pullover torturous. She slipped the hood over her onyx hair while making her way hastily along the street, towards the main road.

It looked empty, which made everything easier. The breeze was a welcome comfort against her legs, barely covered by the choice of short-shorts, the pathetic taupe thing long since suffering its sleeves to be cut off with a pocket knife. Her parents had yet to find her knife, given to her by her best friend. Then again, wearing those shorts always pissed her parents off, something she relished as a bonus. Held up by a thick, studded belt; she had also neglected to pull it high enough for her bushy little bunny-tail to slip through designed hole. The result was a ghetto-made pair of low-riding shorts, something she was nearly as proud of as the pullover.

Escaping her neighborhood was easy, and easier still was the trek along the interstate to get closer to commercial districts. Tagging up her neighborhood was all fine and well, but to really defy the social doctrines, she needed to make her mark somewhere that anybody could see it.

With her self-proclaimed "trademark" earphones around her neck, she darted through the abandoned streets which crisscrossed between petty stores and service-buildings. Upon spotting a police car, she stopped still as ice and kept to the darkest corner of an alleyway. She couldn't tell if anybody was inside, the vehicle simply sitting there in the corner of a strip-mall parking lot. It was next to a stone-walled bathroom, and so she figured the officer probably inside. That would have made for a decent place to tag-up but it was too open; she'd be caught pretty fast. Especially if there was a cop in the bathroom!

Alyshia almost sniggered, thinking that her best friend would likely have gone the extra yard and spray-painted the police car's door as a nice surprise for the officer when he returned.

Big emerald eyes scanned the parking lot, a smirk of confidence spreading across her alabaster face. The pig wasn't anywhere in sight. Maybe he was fattening his ass on some Dixie donuts, instead? Good, she'd be able to outrun someone like that.

She pulled her earphones over her head, brushing that shoulder-length black hair from her face and turning on her music. Alyshia darted to the choicest location to the tune of punk-rock roaring: her own little theme-music, already set to her favorite song for just this occasion. Cautiously glancing over her shoulder as she reached the alleyway of her target, she smugly smiled at the lack of reaction from the squad-vehicle.

It wasn't facing her direction anyway.

There it was. Her target: a huge campaign poster for the new mayor. It would be a perfect message, and no one could drive down the interstate on this side of the town without seeing that poster. She crouched and unzipped her bag, paying no attention as several street-lamps began to flicker and fail; each one turning off with a crackle.

The darkness didn't go unnoticed. Alyshia swore to herself as it became harder to find the right fucking spray-can. Becoming frustrated and therefore more focused on finding the right spray-can; she never spotted the unusual shadow that played across the walls of the alleyway. It was a tiny, kitten-sized thing with a pair of great fennec-fox like ears and a tail twice the length of its body; split into three at the midpoint. Casually, it watched; sitting and tilting its head with anticipation.

One of the spray-cans pulled out of her bag went rolling away and once the teen had finally found the red spray; she stood up and began to cover the poster with the anarchist sigil. The hiss of its spray could barely be heard through the bellowing music in her ears, a cloud of red residue spreading out from the wall and splattering just about everything with speckles of crimson.

There was a heavy step of steel-reinforced leather against concrete.

Alyshia paused for a moment, thinking she had heard something and looking both ways along the alleyway. She saw nobody, and so returned her attention to finishing the tag.

As the last marks were made, the rattling of a heavy chain stole away her focus. The song was at a low point, making it much easier to hear something. Alyshia looked around again, but this time a chill began to fill the air. Green eyes traced the suddenly-appearing clouds of icy mist rolling across the ground. With alarm, she noted how the shadows seemed to darken.

"Erm..." she voiced to herself quietly; though barely able to hear her own words while nigh-deafened by her earphones, "Time to go, I think."

What the fuck? Her music suddenly stopped. She frowned and shuddered uneasily, removing her earphones to check and clarify that the wires were in place, then looking at her MP3 player. It was going insane, static playing across the screen.

The hare brought it closer to her face while murmuring to herself, "What the fuck?"

She noticed movement and a reflection playing across the screen's surface just as it shut off entirely. The image was a little clearer now, without the static. It looked like somebody... somebody with a hood pulled up and two holes for tuned-forward vulpine ears.

Another jingle of metal sounded behind her and the horrid realization finally came upon the punk-girl. Someone was there.

She turned around quickly, just in time to see the blurred swing of a limb and the flash of something silvery. Alyshia grunted, struck and slammed against the wall. The MP3 player fell from her hand, as did the can of spray-paint; her grip shifting to the forearm now used to keep her pressed against the wall. She kicked her legs about, discovering her shoeless feet no longer touching the ground.

Something hot stung on her cheek, and she could feel a warm bead of wet sliding from where the pain came from. Oh no. That was blood, wasn't it?

Terrified, her gaze raised to her assailant and her blood turned to ice. She didn't know who he was, but meeting his shrouded gaze and seeing only the serpentine glows of amethyst piercing through left her paralyzed. Her mind screamed for her to struggle, to fight, to do anything but sit there; but her body refused to respond.

Alyshia remained transfixed, staring into the black hood and entirely failing to acknowledge the reddened fur trim lining it. It was a parka, maybe; but that wasn't important. She felt sick and squirmed against the wall as she felt something slip under the rim of her dark pullover. Metal kissed the flesh of her belly, sliding ever higher as it raised the pullover.

"W-who?" she stammered out pathetically in the weakest voice she had ever heard from herself, wiggling once more as her belly was almost fully exposed to the mysterious chills in the air. The hare questioned whether it was even her speaking.

The only response given was the wickedest of grins spreading across a black-furred, vulpine muzzle. No, it wasn't all black; just the underside. On top, the fur was midnight-blue; an unusual color altered further by the presence of two thin, tiger-like markings crossing over the surface. Her stomach sank as her eyes traced the movement of his grin, ears pinning against her skull at the revelation of his sanguine, needle-like teeth and blackened gums.

Feeling wet metal between her modest-sized, teenage breasts tore her gaze away from his fangs and back to reality. She squirmed more violently, tugging on the forearm against her throat. It was getting to be harder to breathe and she could see that nothing was going to remove that toned arm of his. Both arms, she discovered; were left uncovered by the black parka he wore; the sleeves torn off. She noted the bulge of lean bicep in the arm he was using to keep her pinned in place, swallowing as the weapon in his other hand curled through the collar of her pullover.

With the slightest of efforts, the male twisted to the side and sliced his weapon through her favorite pullover with the rattling of a chain. It fell back over her form though the air still teased at her torso. Now she had the opportunity to see the horrendous weapon he gripped, attached to a chain that was coiled around the entirety of his left arm. No doubt the wickedest of things, it was more-so fashioned like an obsidian ring with three attached meat-hooks; except that each one was angled along the undersides into wedge-shaped blades.

She whined at him, watching in horror as that blade was brought down to her belly again. Would he slash her open? The girl had no idea and that made her all the more afraid. It occurred to her that she could have easily tried to kick him between the legs, but she feared that doing so would get her killed.

Maybe if she screamed, she could get that police officer's attention? Screw being caught for tagging, she wanted to live!

Her thoughts were disrupted as the hook-blade pushed down into her shorts, splitting open her belt and then beginning to push the loosened thing down her legs. She returned her gaze to his hood, shaking her head desperately now that she had an idea of what he was going to do. "Please, no!" Alyshia weakly begged while tensing up and feeling tears gathering in her large eyes. The next thing diced free of her body were the dainty white panties.

A brush of air against her exposed slit brought fire to her cheeks and ice through her spine, she quickly crossed her legs; pressing them as tightly together as they would allow. Illness seemed to corrupt her insides. "Stop!" she beseeched him a little louder, "I'll-I'll scream! There's a cop right there!" Alyshia choked out.

He seemed amused, removing his forearm from her throat and allowing her to drop. She squeaked, falling straight onto her backside and feeling the concrete scrape against her. The shock of impact nearly pushed all the air from her lungs.

Immediately, she kicked against the ground and nudged as far away from him as possible though this could scarcely be considered worth acknowledging as distance, succeeding meagerly in pressing herself against brick. She vainly tried to impel together her pullover, frantically scrunching it up over her breasts and staring up at him in fear through teary eyes.

"I'll cut out your tongue," the vulpine responded to her while glaring down upon her. His voice sounded nothing like what should have come from the athletic teen body he seemed to wear, its depth like the abyss of the oceans and colder still; laced with a serpentine hiss. "And no," he added and pressed one of his heavy onyx-leather boots painfully against her chest. She winced, trying to breathe with the nigh-crushing weight of the encumbrance; while he crouched to gaze straight into her eyes, "There isn't."

There wasn't? But she had seen the car right there! Maybe he was lying? Maybe he wasn't? She didn't want her tongue to be cut out and from the looks of the male; he'd likely make good on his threat. Instead, she watched as he stood and loosened the trio of belts convoluted about his waist. The cargoes landed about his ankles with a heavy thump, echoed by the jingle of belt-buckles.

Now her gaze found his shaft and she began to squirm, unable to move under the pressure of his boot. As soon as his foot was no longer immobilizing her, she attempted to crawl away. It did her no good; for in a flash Alyshia was yanked back to him by her hood; nearly resulting in the whole thing being torn from her body. Still trying to get away, she was forcefully turned around and her jaw snatched firmly, fingertips digging painfully into her cheeks to force open her mouth.

She whined and wriggled, trying to get away. When he shoved his member into her maw she instantly moved her hands to his hips; frantically trying to shove him back. He began to pump as though all her struggling further aroused him. The taste made her retch.

Eyes shut tight while he continued, whilst picking up the pace. Alyshia could feel a bead of saliva streaming from the corner of her mouth. Her attempts to continue breathing just gave him what he wanted, the lapine-furre closing her mouth around his member in order to breathe through her nostrils. But doing this resulted in getting jerked forward. Her head was forcefully angled upward and her torso pulled beneath him, permitting the rapist to drive his cock straight into her throat.

She gagged, nearly throwing up but fought it back lest the lapine end up suffocating on her own bile. Her whines and protests were muffled. The vulpine paused for a moment to savor the sensation of the struggling teen's mouth and throat. Any attempt made by the victim's body to clear the blockage of her throat simply serviced him, the convulsions, swallowing, and whimpers constantly contracting the flesh around it.

Alyshia began to shake, no fresh air filling into her lungs. Her eyes began to roll back while she twitched and gagged; getting to be lightheaded. A fresh breath of air was finally granted her once the member was pulled out. She gasped; her mouth a mess of salivation. Once she was breathing again, she brought an arm up to try wiping the fluid from around her mouth. There wasn't enough time to do so however, as again she was jerked forward and maw invaded.

As he began face-fucking her a second time, hilting into her every thrust and smacking his sac against her chin; the male gazed down at her.

She whimpered and tears rolled down her cheeks. Never had she felt this helpless.

"Suck it," he abruptly commanded her.

Her head shook in response, or at least tried to; but his firm grip wouldn't allow her more than a slight budge.

Obviously displeased with her answer, he brought the hook-blade up again, bunny-teen's emerald eyes darting to it nervously. "If you don't blow me," the vulpine elaborated pleasantly, "Then I'm going to rip open your fucking throat and fuck it."

More of his threats and all she could really do was cry. She decided to invest her hope in the idea that if she did everything he wanted, then maybe he would let her go home.

With great reluctance, she brought a hand up to take gentle hold of his shaft. The lapine-lass started to comply by suckling against each thrust. She was disgusted with herself, but the icy grip of terror that held her heart hostage and invaded her spine silently reminded her that self-preservation was more important than pride.

At this compliance, the male pulled back enough to let her catch her breath again; pumping only her mouth; his member throbbed to her touch. She knew little about oral, only that he wanted her to suck and that a blowjob had something to do with bobbing her head. This she would never do, believing that simply suckling was enough. Her tongue curled naturally around his shaft, as if her body knew better what to do.

Something salty and cold leaked then began to taint the taste in her mouth, but the teary-eyed girl gazed up at him fearfully for his reactions. She took in sight of his toned torso, the parka left open to hang upon his frame. It revolted her further as soon as the thought about how hot he might have been crossed her mind.

What mercy had been shown was quickly gone again. The vulpine pulled out of her mouth just as she was descending again; resulting in a wet pop. Hopeful, the punk-girl wiped her mouth of saliva; avoiding his gaze with the possible promise of being permitted to go.

He didn't let her.

The shadows began to grow greater and they seemed to swim through the air to surround the vulpine while he stripped off his clothing. Alyshia thought to take the chance to leave, clinging to the pipe dream that he was finished with her. As the sickening sound of his bones changing and muscles thickening filled the air; she stopped in condemning curiosity to watch.

Her procrastination would cost her dearly.

His fur thickened, his limbs lengthened and his head became much more feral. Eight additional tails manifested to join the first. Alyshia knew what that meant, but she didn't want to believe it. Multiple tails were only something that a spirit-fox possessed. A kitsune. But those were just legends and mythology from the east, right?

No, she should've known better by now that nothing was right with the evening. Maybe her friends had been right about not trying to tag up the streets tonight.

As the transformation finished, she found herself staring at an immense feral; its body retaining all the grace of its kind but demonstrating nothing of the spoken benevolence. She wished greatly that somebody would drive by; that anyone at all would see what was happening and come to help. Fear of dying was all that kept her frozen in place.

The male darted at her. Alyshia opened her mouth to scream but found herself slammed down against the concrete and robbed of breath. Legs were wrenched open and virginal folds brutally gored upon a length far too thick. She tried to scream again, an onyx-furred paw with jet-black talons shot to her throat and caused her only to choke out. Her legs were unable to close with the beast between them.

Agony tore through her body as his length remorselessly pumped her depths. She felt as if her body was going to be split open, every penetration causing her stomach to lock up too tightly. It was as if someone was stomping her midsection repeatedly. The pace intensified, it became ravenous.

Breathing was too difficult; she frantically clawed with bare fingertips at his paw. Her world was already beginning to darken, but she got no response from him; only more drilling.

Something hot was leaking from between her legs, dripping down her outspread thighs. She bawled without air, trembling for breath and feeling molten needles piercing into every nerve of her body. All she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, the edges of her emerald-eyed sight devoured by black clouds.

The monster oppressing her started becoming blurry and the pain was just too much. Soon, she blacked out; resigned to the certainty that she was never going to wake again.

~=†=~