FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Walking back to the foyer where he had woken up in, he noted a door next to the one he had just exited, only to find it locked. Even with a few hefty shoves it would not budge. Leaving it be, he saw another door nearby the large ornate white stairs and walked through it to find yet another hallway. He had the feeling he was going to be sick of hallways by the end of this day, and he was also getting sick of the cut above his right eye that continued to bleed downwards, threatening to temporarily blind him. He struggled not to blink everytime he felt the warm red droplets. Halfway through the hall, he found one door which was again locked, as well as a row of latticed windows all across the wall to his left, looking out into the courtyard. Reaching the end of the corridor, he opened it to find himself in yet another hallway, but different than the others due to the wooden staircase to his right. A darker red wallpaper was along the walls, and a large curtained window was to his left. Ignoring the stairs for now, he ventured to the right end of the hallway to find another door. The room inside was also of dark red wallpaper, as well as being full of animals. Dead animals. Various beastly heads hung on mantels along the upper parts of the wall, above a rack of jars full of strange bubbling body parts and possibly foetuses. He could see them squirming and thriving either by being actually alive or being moved by the water. Either way, James felt quite ill from the sight of this macabre little den. "Uuugh...what kind of sicko lives here?"

His curiosity nevertheless invited him in, gazing at the jars, examining the heads of deer and tigers which made him uneasy in their deathly gaze. The rest of the room had only shelves of small tightly locked boxes and a metal cupboard. Walking over to it, he found it unlocked and gently opened it up, only to immediately close it again and almost start retching from the sight and smell. Whatever existed in there, he had no idea what species it used to be. But it was human-sized at least. A part of him was sickened. The other part was frightened at what could have made someone churn up a body, if it was one, into a bloody pile of mulch meshed with sinew and ribbons of muscles. Somehow it still bled, as he could have sworn it had pulsated before him. He immediately ran out of the room, but was halted by one of the jars suddenly falling from the table and breaking open to reveal a pulsing sickeningly yellow foetus, which only made him run quicker. He wanted to vomit badly to get the queasiness out of him. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the bodily horror that must have occurred in there, James tried to be rational. "Okay...okay...not that bad, whatever happened, it's dead anyway. You done stuff just as bad, you can handle gross stuff, you just didn't expect it. I mean the stuff you did to Bob was just as bad right? Hahaa...mmmnnngh..." He felt a little regret at trying to joke about that, and stood in the hall for a few minutes trying to think on where to go. Wanting to explore all of the first floor before heading upwards, he went down the far other end, past the rows of curtained windows, the blood-red silk he both admired and felt uneasy at the sight of.

Finding himself in another hallway, he found three doors to his left, checking the first one to find a much nicer bathroom than the one from before, the walls resplendent in a heartwarming pink. A little hope sparked inside him at the prospect of a clean bathroom, thinking he might even get a chance to wash himself. "Hmmm, Daisy would have loved this colour." Smiling at the thought and catching the memory of her scent, he walked through the door into the main bath area itself, finding it curious as to why this place seemed to have all of its bathrooms separated into two smaller rooms, one with a sink and one with a bath. "Must be something rich people do," he said mockingly, "all weird with their ten different forks and u-u-u-u-u-u-uuuuu..." The bath itself had a gorgeous white curtain around it, and he pulled it open to find the bath was completely clean much to his surprise. He was tempted to have one but realised that the last thing he really needed was to clean his body. An idea did come to him however in looking inside the sink cabinet for something that could help his wounds. Checking the cabinet, he was lucky to find a few band-aids, washing his face first in the sink to clean himself before applying the band-aid over the cut above his eye. It became somewhat more an effort than it should have been due to his wounded left arm. He smiled at its placement and thought it made him look slightly badass. Checking his shoulder wound next, he found a proper roll of bandages and replaced the dishtowel-made-bandage with a proper one, after he washed his shoulder wound. "There...looks a li'l bit nicer now, don't it?"

He said this to his mirror self, smiling and checking himself over as he became more interested in his reflection. Little had changed in his face from the last time he looked into a mirror from a couple of hours ago other than his new cut, which made him pleased to know. Though he felt he looked rather worn-down, even in the healthy light of the bathroom. "God, Daisy'd tell me I looked like a total wreck. Heh..." He leaned over the sink slightly to gaze deeper into his eyes, the slightly bloody dishtowel in his hand. In all honesty, his shoulder wasn't bleeding very badly, but he didn't want to risk infection. "Probably tell me to take a shower or something. I gotta get out of here first though, then I'll clean myself up. Glad I could do a bit of first-aid, eh Sarah?" He stretched his arms out, feeling exhausted, but forgot about his left arm and nearly buckled from the pain it began to radiate. Whimpering, he decided to wait for a bit before he tried teleporting again when his arm didn't hurt. After he felt the pain lessen, he focused once again on trying to leave, thinking up a specific word, forgetting what he had thought of before but tried something again, like banana. Focusing on a banana in his head, he did his utmost best to wish himself far away to a world full of bananas, even murmuring the word "bananas" to himself over and over again. The swirling of nanos began around him as he kneeled down. He felt it stronger than before, focusing with his eyes closed as if praying for a miracle. His right hand clenched into a hardened fist, his left hand splayed on the ground, the aura of that strange almost electrical feeling resonating around him strongly. And yet nothing came, not like all those times before. No swirling portal no matter how long he kept it up, until he gave up when he realised it took 3 times longer than normal.

"Dammit, it didn't work! I don't know what the hell's going on here. Can't just be the fact my shoulder's fucked can it?" Feeling frustrated, he got up and left the room, wondering to himself on why the teleporting didn't work in this mansion. The next two doors down the current hall were locked, so he kept walking onwards to another small room with another two doors. One to his right next to a window, and another straight ahead. Gazing through the doorway to his right, he saw a pile of rubble blocking his way so he picked the other way, a dead end with two doors and a staircase. What caught his eye moreso was the row of green statues down the left side of the hall, between the doors, all of which made him uneasy. Moreso by the fact that the statues all looked exactly the same. Taking his chances, he carefully eyed them as he made his way to the first door to see a small square-carpeted room. A piano laid to his right, with a wardrobe in front of him, and an odd curtained area to the right of it which already made the raptor suspicious of what it could hide. A record player was to his immediate right, on a small cabinet beside the wall which intrigued him. "Huh...damn that's a huge black CD." Checking the cabinet he saw a range of musicians, a few of which he knew of from Sarah. Old 20th century stuff, but most of it he didn't recognise. Deciding to leave it be, he checked over at the piano and tenderly pressed a few of the keys. He remembered seeing a piano back in a hotel Sarah and him once stayed in during their credit card spree, revelling in the memory as he played out a discordant little tune, but not too loudly. "Pfffhahahahha...crazy."

He decided to check out the wardrobe only to find various pieces of junk that served no purpose to him whatsoever. Disappointed, he closed it and decided to pull back the curtain nearby, having no clue what it was for, and distrusting it intently. His fears were proved wrong to find nothing behind it, sighing with relief before exiting the room. Moving down the hallway, he kept his eye on the statues again before entering the next room, looking around at the rather dark-looking room. The floor was hard with linoleum like a kitchen, with the smell of stale blood in the air. Turning the light on, he was greeted with the sounds of scurrying rodents. It appeared to be some sort of butcher's den, a bloody apron hanging on a hook on the right wall between a large cage in the far right corner. A bloody worktop stood in the near right corner, festooned with the bodies of crows. "Oh this just gets better and better." Finding himself less sickened than back in the trophy room of jars and busts, he looked over the crow corpses, noting that all of them had been decapitated, one of which laid on the worktop with the rest hanging from hooks. The scurrying of rodents continued from the cage nearby, one of the cages being already open and noticeably absent of what would presumably have been the next headless crow judging from the feathers within. He worried about the rats, seeing if he could find a way to open their cage. "I hate this place already and if you guys wanna mess it up, I'll let you."

Looking around, he noticed the abandoned rusty knife on the worktop and decided that it was the only thing he could use. Trying to jam it under the cage roof, he managed to lift it somewhat enough to put his his right hand into, disregarding the padlocked latch as he struggled to lift the thing, or at the very least break the cage open. "Come...NNGH...Come...ON! ...RRRARGH!" Growling through his teeth, he summoned up all of his strength, feeling his muscles tense up to violently fling open the cage roof, breaking the old latch off with a loud clatter, surprising himself at what he managed to muster. "Woah...heh...uhhhh okay." Taking the rodents out of the cage, he let them free upon the floor as they scattered every which way, mainly out the door that he opened for them. "Run, run wherever your tiny little feet want you to." Feeling better about himself, he left the cage room. As he walked back along the corridor he heard a sudden blare of notes from the music room, as if someone had just bashed on the piano keys within, surprising him enough to almost fall over. "The hell?! Those rats didn't get here that fast, did they? No they couldn't have done that much noise..." Gently opening the door, he looked in to see there was nothing in the room that was out of place, piano and all. He wanted to go inside to look further but felt if he did so, he would regret it. Deciding to just ignore his curiosity, he closed the door and sighed, trying to relax against one of the statues. He felt less scared of them now. Especially when he saw scissor-blades suddenly stab halfway through the door violently. "AAAARGH!" Panic flew in his mind like a bird in flames as he ran immediately towards the stairs, stumbling up them as quick as he could, ignoring the two doors at the end of the second floor corridor. Running through a door the opposite way, he briefly ssaw a room to his right full of rubble before running straight ahead through another door, into a similar-feeling hallway like those of the first floor exactly. It slightly confused him before he ran into the first of three rooms to his right, and found himself in a large study.

The study was rather immaculate and grand in its rectangular layout, with only a door to the left as the other exit. A few paintings of similar-looking women hung up above a roaring fireplace, which looked strangely well-kept considering the apparent state of the place. Two bookcases also existed here, one to the left of James from his entering the room, and another in the far left corner, next to a smooth wooden desk which stood in front of a large broken window at the far back of the room. "Jesus...he's not dead...h-he's not dead, fuck I should have cut his head off, goddamnit why does he want to kill me?! I just wanna get out of here..." Trying to not break into tears from the fear and frustration that welled up inside him, James walked forwards tentatively to examine the apparent crime scene before him, noticing an old red blotch on the desk. The window actually looked towards the outside of the mansion's boundaries, a wide forest stretching out towards the horizon. At last, an exit from the mansion! A smile gleamed upon his face as he looked down to see the drop, and being on the second floor it wasn't too bad a climb with his claws. Then he remembered his arm. "Mmmph...can I do this?" Even though his shoulder wasn't up for the task, James wanted to leave the mansion by any means possible. He was sure that this place was somehow preventing him from leaving whatever world he was in, and if he just managed to reach far enough into the forests, he could get away from whatever influence it had. Looking around for some sort of rope to make things easier, he saw none in the study and decided to investigate the other door for anything that might help. The next room was a little less pleasant. A child's room, shrouded in darkness with the faint silhouettes of broken toys and scarred walls barely seen in the gloom. He felt even more scared than he had been in the other rooms. This was the lair of the beast. A toychest to his right with the boy's bed in the corner offered up potential for what he needed, heading over to grab the sheets from the small bed, hoping there was enough and sadly seeing there was not. He rummaged through the nearby chest of drawers hoping more were in there and to his luck there were, trying to not disturb any of the toys that he found distrustful and unnerving. Grabbing enough, he headed back to the study and began making a rope. "Hope you don't mind not having any sheets to sleep on you li'l freak."

With a long enough rope, he headed back to the study and looked around for a place to tie it to, settling on the sturdy-looking curtain rail above the window itself. Testing it by pulling it downwards some with the rope, he found that it didn't even bend, possibly of some high-quality metal as he slung the rope over and through. Tying one end to the rail, he threw the rest outside, spiralling down the side of the manor. He noticed the sharper parts of the glass and cleared them from the window in a sprinkling shower to make sure they wouldn't cut the rope accidentally. "Alright...let's do this." Bracing himself after testing the firmness of the rope, he began to climb down out of the window, carefully scaling the stone exterior of the mansion and trying not to tear the rope with his claws accidentally. The going went good as he found the rope only reached as far as the first floor, but the drop was nothing to him, barely a leap from a mailbox. He had managed to land on the fresh grass outside, panting happily at being finally free of the mansion before he immediately ran into the woods. "Free! Hahaha, I'm fucking FREE!" He ran as fast as he could, not even thinking of how isolated the mansion could be, far into the woods, leaping over roots and bushes and soon slowing down when he felt he had put enough of a distance between him and the manor. He gulped in large breaths of air, his exhilaration of escape having winded him somewhat, not even able to see the mansion anymore, and deciding to find a better spot to teleport such as a clearing or so. As he walked onwards in the darkness of the wood, he never even realised that he was being followed. Yet the stalker didn't even touch a blade of grass in its tracking of the raptor, and even with the natural paranoia everyone experienced in a dark forest, he still did not notice the shadow that hunted him from practically two feet away. Soon finding a clearing in the woods, James stood in the middle of the somewhat circular area of grass and began his teleportation. "Alright, time to finally leave this place."

Focusing on a single word, this time the word "sky", he was about to truly get the energy flowing when he heard a whoosh from behind him. Turning around too late, he saw a darkness sweep over him and flutter in his face like a huge bat before sweeping past him, sending a cold shiver up his spine. "Wh-WHO'S THERE!?! Better not be you, scissorboy!" He really hoped it wasn't him, hoping that he had escaped the reach of those scissors by heading into these woods. Yet he heard no snipping, no stumbling limp of buckled shoes. All he heard was an unnatural wind, a wind that didn't move the trees or the grass, or even slip across his body. He felt it encircling him now, making its presence known. Keeping his guard up as best as he could, he moved with the direction of the sound. "SHOW YOURSELF DAMMIT!" He regretted saying the words that had brought those scissors into his life, but he said them nevertheless as the shadow loomed before him, rearing like a cobra two feet taller than himself. A slender shadow with jagged edges on both sides of its head, as well as the top, its eyes leering of an indeterminate shade of red. The sight of it made James shiver in fear, it was like something out of his nightmare. Anyone's nightmare. "Wh-wh-wh-what are you!? L-leave me alone...LEAVE ME ALONE!" The shadow seemed to roar an unearthly howl at the raptor, who panicked and backed away, wondering if he should stand and fight or run and hide. Realising that this was practically a ghost, he decided to run, especially when it howled at him once again. The sound that can make one's own soul shiver like death is impossible to describe. If one could do so, then such sounds become ineffective, purely by the fact that if a mortal can comprehend it, then it cannot terrify their very souls.

James could not comprehend this sound, that ethereal howl that could kill newborns with a single note. And as such, he made a scream so heartfelt and pure with fear, that the last time he had ever screamed like that, was when he had a nightmare at five years old. Running into the forest, he didn't even bother looking back, trying to outrun the sinuous shadow, leaping over fallen branches, avoiding them better than most who ran through a forest, but soon reaching his limits. Even with a primal fear fuelling his speed when he ran long and fast enough to feel his lungs burning with the need for more air, he felt his limbs start to flare up with pain. As he eventually slowed down, he turned sluggish, hugging a tree, trying to push away from it to make him charge forwards a few more feet. But he couldn't keep himself going, even in his best efforts to reach so hopelessly deep into the forest. Struggling to get his breath back, shaking with whimpering shudders that almost turned to retching from how much air he forced himself to gulp back, he turned around, needing to know if he had at the very least outrun the shadow. He didn't. The last thing he saw was those terrible eyes looming upon him for a split second, before a darkness enshrouded his senses. He didn't even have time to scream, as he felt the cold darkness wrap around him like a straitjacket.

Mine.

That was all he heard. That single word within that split second of darkness between his running in the forest, as well as his panicked awakening in a dark room littered with ruin, had been the only thing anyone ever said to him since his arrival. "Wh...wha...where.......wait...." Standing up, he looked around himself at his strangely familiar surroundings. It was a room with scars along the walls, children's toys strewn about, and a bed nearby recently bereft of sheets. "No...no please...I can't be." He quickly ran out to the room he didn't want to believe was what he thought to be. But he was right. The next room was a study, navy blue carpet, portraits of women, fire roaring away without a care in the world, a broken window to the far end with bookcases and blood-stained desk. The only difference in the room was that the rope made of sheets was now gone. In fact, the window itself was bereft of curtains, the rail ripped from the wall itself. Outside, he could no longer even see the forest he had seen before, but instead the other side of the house, separated by the inner courtyard below. Completely surrounded by walls and windows with two doors on either end to his left and right below. A single reflecting pool laid out in the middle, thin in the moonless night with a small wooden shed standing guard next to it. "B-b-but...but I...I was out...I was in the forest, I fucking was, I-i-i know I was!" Now he felt truly trapped inside the mansion. And with this realisation, tears of rage welled up in his eyes. "GOD...FFFffffff..." His panic turned to fury, and then his fury turned into sorrow. He kneeled onto the floor, covering his face with both hands, screaming a muffled cry of rage and frustration at being brought back here. He roared into his palms, trying to expel all of his expression to try and allow himself some thinking time. When he had calmed down, face literally shaking with his hands, he decided that if he couldn't escape, then he could do whatever it took to survive. "I'm gonna kill that little bastard."

He stood up from the ground, his shoulder feeling less sore than before but not enough to use his left arm any better, and carefully left the study back out into the corridor, scanning the darkness for his foe. Walking back the way he came, he became curious of the other two rooms on the second floor past the stairs, over a gap in the floor he could easily jump over. Doing so, he saw one door had been paved over with cement to look like part of the wall, and doing a pretty poor job of it for him to recognise such. The other door further down however was open, and revealed a store room cluttered with boxes and cabinets. There was also a large hole in the wall in the far left corner, slightly obscured by a trolley with crates stacked on it. As he stepped into the dark store room, he heard something bump from the far right corner. Something in a box. Readying himself with a plank of wood from nearby, he braced himself for a fight, steeling his nerves as the box shook and waggled around maniacally, before it yowled and burst open. Tumbling out was a rather large black cat. Relaxing himself, James chuckled slightly. "Pfft, stupid cat. You stuck here too?" The cat watched him, merely saying nothing, probably just happy to be free from the box. Feeling better about himself, James ignored the cat, thinking it had probably been the owner's or even a stray that snuck in, even though non-anthropomorphic animals was to him rather unusual. "Don't worry kitty, you'll get out of here, I'll kill that freak and this place'll be safe for anyone who wanders in...I hope." He strepped through the hole in the corner wall to find a rather strange scene. It was an almost empty room with a door in the far left corner and a skeleton to James' left, as well as marks on the wall, a tally of days. He realised now why that door had been paved over. Someone had been imprisoned here. Investigating the human skeleton, he saw an old looking satchel nearby full of what appeared to be medical equipment with the name "Dr. Walter Simpson" embroidered upon it. Inside it was a memo, written elegantly if hastily. James tried his best to read it to himself.

"This is the third day that I, Walter Simpson, have been in here. I will not last long. Before I die, I will record this... There are twin children who are a blemish on this world. When the lady was to give birth, I was called to this house. She gave birth to two chil...no, demons. When they were born, they ate my right hand?!" The idea alone made him clench as he kept reading. "They were ill, their bodies deformed...they should have died. But they lived... I should have tried to..." The rest was the rambling end of the doctor's notes on how painful his last moments were in a sealed room when the air ran out, as well as repeating the name Jennifer, which James assumed was his wife or something. The memo was marked November 10th, 1986. "Jeez...so...two demon kids huh? Wait...maybe...maybe there's two of them." He started to ponder on such a possibility. Perhaps he had truly killed one of them in the freezer, and he was dealing with the other one. That had to be it, surely! He kept that positive idea in his mind, the idea that he could kill them, that they weren't immortal or invincible like the classic slasher movie villain. As he decided to leave, he kicked a small piece of paper near his foot, picking it up to see more notes from the doctor, revealing the patient's name. "Mary Barrows...gave birth to two twins, Bobby and Dan. Barrows huh? Well, now I know the name of this place, and the freaks who live in it." Armed with a little more knowledge upon his foe, James felt a little more brave in turn, and left the room to find himself a weapon. Hopefully the most dangerous one he could find. He wanted to stop hiding, to cut the horror movie short in the middle and just end it once and for all, even if he had only been here for a few hours. He knew, somehow, that the monster was responsible for him being stuck here. He hadn't been certain before, but the shadow outside, regardless of what it was, had to be linked to him. The doctor's note confirmed it too, no doubt about it. And if that thing was trying to keep him here, then surely it was somehow preventing his teleporting, especially if it wasn't human. He had no idea HOW it was doing it, but he knew that it was behind it, with nobody else to suspect. And James knew that the only way he could ever leave this place, was to kill the scissor-wielding child.