FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

WARNING: DARK AND VERY BLOODY SCENES ARE WRITTEN IN THIS SHORT STORY, DO NOT PROCEED UNLESS YOU ARE ABLE TO HANDLE OR HAVE A PUKE BAG NEARBY, AND I WOULD SUGGEST READING IT IN THE DARK FOR AN ADDED AFFECT

It was the tenth summer since Magia took over Draga. I was helping father with the field work by grabbing the wheat and bringing them to the mill. Itwas simple compared to what my father did every day, it astounded me how he was able to keep all the crops healthy till harvest time. "Phillip, remember to put the grain into the hopper first..."

"Then pull the lever. I know this father." I finished for him. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful, it just bothered me how absent minded he thought I was. In the past, I had done so much to actually reinforce that belief. I hadn't really forgotten to do my chores, I only had no desire to. Now, my parents have begun to think that I was truly forgetful and would not give me much freedom or responsibility. My father only sighed, walking out of the mill back to the fields. His thin black tail swaying behind him. The sun strikes him like an arrow hitting the bulls-eye. His dark color in the blazing weather did not spell happy for his work. He preferred winter since it was like a holiday to him, with no sun torching his wings and back. My light green color didn't make me a prime target for the sun's mighty rays. My father always mumbled curses about his black scales, he believed they were the cause of him being targeted by the sun's wrath. My father seemed smarter than me at the time but that just sounded like rubbish, black scales being the cause of him feeling hotter than the rest of us...yeah right. I only flied up the towering mill to a platform at the top.

Stairs were built into the mill but I preferred to fly since it was faster, the stairs were only meant to be used if anyone had a broken a wing since we had no human helpers at the mill. I dropped the golden grains into the hopper, filling it to the brim before wrapping both of my claws on the wooden lever next to it as I pulled it several times, the grain falling down the chute to be grounded by the stone gears into a fine flour. I repeated this process twenty five times until It was about three in the afternoon. Taking the grains father had harvested and putting them through the hopper. It was around two that my mother and younger sister, Tera, arrived with woven flax bags to put the flour in. The flour had gathered in a wooden bin about five feet deep. They grabbed small hand shovels and began to scoop the flour into the bags, mother scooped, while Tera tied them off, a simple task fit for an eight year old. Her dark-green scales blended with the wood, if it wasn't for my sister's bright blue eyes that matched mine, you would think she was part of the mill. My mother's emerald scales sticking out like a sore thumb among the dark wood. Most would definitely see our parent's resemblance in me and my sister. As soon as every last piece of grain had been ground and the produced flour packed. We stored it in the pantry to be carried to the markets tomorrow.

Supper was simple, a bread and carrot stew with chunks of dry and tasteless chicken. The broth was just water and the bread was the centerpiece of the meal since it was made with our own flour, overshadowing the petty stew. No one had a right to complain at the table about the quality of the meal. Ever since Magia had taken over Draga, he brought with him new methods that replaced our previous ones. All the mills had new metal gears and grinders that produced more flour and of higher quality it appeared. This had made business rather slow and they were using flour more than selling it. The only source of income they still had was a faithful baker in the capitol, Verel. "Phillip," my father said as I looked up from the clear stew to his face. "I want you to go to Verel tomorrow by yourself, please don't get distracted and come back home with the money the moment you deliver the flour to the baker."

I nodded, "Yes father." This was my chance to prove that I was ready for more responsibility, no way was I going to mess it up. Once supper was finished, I went to sleep on my cotton cot. I had a dreamless sleep and awoke the next day, early at dawn. I quickly washed my face with the water pump near the fields then got a wheel-barrel from the cottage and went to the pantry to stock it up with twenty bags of flour. Just the amount the baker ordered. Using my strength, I heaved the handles of the tripod cart off the ground and onto the dirt path, pebbles scattering apart with the wooden wheel running over them. It was hard to move such a heavy load on a rough road, but somehow, I was able to make it to Verel around noon. The towering white Kessho tower was the tallest construct in the entire city, it was surrounded by turrets and the walls of the castle. Even the citizen's housings were large, all of them two stories or more, with elegant decor. It seemed that recently, only the wealthy could afford to live well in Verel. Turning off the path, I wheeled the cart down a forgotten cobblestone street into the lower quarter. It was here that those who were not rich lived. The small slums of houses were home to underpaid workers and old-school businesses that refused to change their ways to the new technology Magia came with.

I stopped in front of "The Floured Apron" the run-down looking bakery my client owned. His business had declined and was one of the few who still stuck to the old ways like me and my family did. I set the barrel down and rapped my knuckles against the wooden door. A chubby sixty year old woman with a kind smile opening the door. Her silver hair was put into a bun with a single bang hanging over her face. She had brown eyes and was wearing a simple tan dress with an apron over it. "Ah, Phillip. Good to see you, do you have my order of flour with you by chance?" She said in a tender tone.

"Yes, Mila. It's right here." I said and picked up two bags from the cart. "I'll carry it in right now."

Mila nodded "Very well, I'll get out of your way, you know where it goes." I entered the bakery, it smelled of delicious bread and pastries the floor was recently swept, baskets held the bread for the customers to buy. Although, there was no one in the shop except for me and Mila. I did multiple trips, placing the flour sacks into the kitchen next to the oven. In about fifteen minutes I had unloaded the cart. "Thank you, Phillip, here's the pay for the flour." She handed me a leather pouch of coins. I bowed and said your welcome and left with the wheel-barrel in tow. He had finished the delivery, now he had to get back home. But out of the corner of my eye, as I was passing by one of the uncared streets, I saw, sitting in an alley, was a man with a soiled bandage over his left eye. His feet and hands wrapped in tattered and yellow bandages as well, trying to impersonate gloves and shoes. His clothes were made out of what looked like sacks with holes torn into them, he was thin, the sack would slip off him if not held in place by a thin rope around the his waist like a belt. This man was one of the many homeless and crippled who had lost their homes to Magia's taxation and cruelty, they were struggling just to live.

Looking at the bag of gold I had just received, I undid the knot sealing it and plucked three gold coins from it's contents. It was a partly sum, but he still needed the rest to give to his parents. That man needed it more than I did, it would just mean I'd have to eat less for the month. I dropped the whellbarell next to the entrance of the alley as I walked in under the shade of the patched broad roofs from the apartments above it, making it dim with patches of light breaking through. I knelled down, talking in a calm and low tone, as not to startle the man, said "Here, you look like you could need this more than I do." I set out my open claw to the man, the three coins in my palm. The man turned his head to look at it with his good eye, a brown and sunken one that peeked through his greasy overgrown hair that shielded his face like a curtain.

"Thank you, few show charity in these dark times..." The street urchin said in a raspy voice as he reached out with cupped boney hands to catch the money as I gently placed it in them.

"Charity, is one of the few things people can do to prove they still have their humanity." I said before standing up and walking back through the dark alley to the entrance of it, where I saw a cloaked man running away with my wheel-barrel. "Hey! Stop, Thief!" I yelled in vain as the the crook just ran faster, the passing citizens getting out of the way of the charging wheel-barrel. I ran in hot pursuit, that barrel was the only means of transporting loads of flour, they would not have enough materials or money to make another!. My clawed feet scratched against the stone street as I ran after the black cloaked figure. He was fast but I was staying close to him, keeping him in my range of sight as he suddenly turned a corner into yet another shank alley. I turned quick to, almost bumping straight into the wheel-barrel if I had not stopped my self in time. It had been deserted, the thief no where in sight, as I looked around. Suddenly, with a loud "Thump!" from behind, I had my mouth covered by a soft substance, a sweet scent filling my nostrils and lungs as darkness closed in on me, I blacked out.

"Drip...Drip...Drip...Drip..." Was the sound I awoke to, I opened my eyes slowly, awakening to a dim room, with the only light coming from a torch hanging near what looked like...an Iron Maiden in a black stone room with blood dripping off the spikes, making the dripping sound, a pool of blood forming at the base of it. I looked around, seeing other torture devices, a rack, cuffs chained to a wall, a restraint chair, a bastinado, a chair covered with spikes, and a small forge filled with burning coals, an iron rod sticking from it, various knives and weapons lined up neatly next to it, and next to me, an assortment tray of even more torture tools. I began to panic, this was clearly a torture chamber, I had been kidnapped and taken here, most likely by that cloaked man who stole the wheel-barrel. I did not need to know why, just that I had to get out fast. I tried to sit up but found that I had my wrists, feet, legs, tail, and wings bound to a steel vertical table. Stained with dry blood and rust. I struggled against my bindings with no avail, these were made of steel, no way that a fourteen year old dragon could break through them. A bang and clank was heard from a metal door opening and then closing, heavy footsteps being heard coming down stairs, getting closer and closer. Until the door to the torture chamber opened, and coming through it...was a man wearing an executioner's mask and black pants and long sleeved shirt covered by a silk black apron, with blood splattered upon it.

The figure walked over to me, staring at me through the holes in it's mask. "Oh! A dragon this time, before I start, best to get the measurements first..." it sounded like a man. He took out a measurement roll and snapped it out straight as he...began to take my measurements? What was this? A twisted tailor trip? The man chuckled after measuring my wings and tail. "Excellent! You're just what I wanted, same height, weight, and features just as I requested....although, those green scales have to go...." The man put on two gauntlets, each black as night with blood red tips. He jabbed the gauntlets straight through my chest, I thought he had just killed me when I felt the cold metal go thorough my chest, but I looked down, and saw no blood, instead the gauntlets were _in_my chest, squirming around with a red glow around the area they were poking through. Then, I felt them grip something, and with a sudden yank, out of my chest, still beating, was my heart, red, and covered in the same red glow as the gauntlets. "I don't want you dieing, so the enchantment from these gauntlets should keep you from going away...at least until I'm done with you." He said in a sadistic voice and smile. I gasped, my body shiviring, this was real, my heart had just been torn out of my chest, yet I was still alive, how!? He cursed magic, he would scorn it for the rest of his life...which would quickly end.

The torturer set the heart in a jewelery box as he then took off one of the gauntlets, and dipped his fingers in the pool of blood from the iron maiden, as he walked up to me and with his bloody fingers, drew a heart out of blood where he had ripped it out. "Just so I know where I ripped it out." He then put the gauntlet back on as he turned and picked up the iron rod from the forge, it glowing white from the molten heat. "W-w-why are you doing this to me! What did I do to deserve this!?" I demanded, did I not deserve the right to know why I had to die this way? He only jabbed the rod into my stomach with tremendous force, It easily breaking through my scales and skin, causing blood to seep out of the burning wound, the skin caramelizing as I screamed. He then yanked it out, leaving the blood to simmer from the heat and the wound to burn. He then picked up a dagger as he grabbed my head, slamming it against the vertical table's base as he placed the dagger against my neck, he then began to skin my body alive! The pain was unbearable, I wanted to scream and fail around my head, but the way he was holding me had paralyzed my nerves and kept my screams from escaping. My skin and scales were sliced off in long shreds as they fell to the floor, my raw bloody flesh being exposed. All of my scales and skin had been stripped away like the sheet from a bed, except for the area around my eyes, my tail was limp and bloody like a long strip of raw meat. He then grabbed jagged tongs as he wrenched my mouth open with the pair and locked them, as they kept my jaw in place. He then grabbed a smaller and longer pair of tongs as he gripped my teeth, and pulled on them. I only released a gargled jumble of noise that was my attempt to scream.

One by one, my teeth were ripped from my jaw and thrown onto a metal plate until all that remained was my bleeding gums, the sour blood dripping down my tongue and chin, falling onto the floor with the same "drip" as the iron maiden. He then removed the tongs, I let a captive scream as it echoed throughout the torture chamber's walls. The cruel man was not done, he set down the tongs next to my teeth as he picked up a sharp edged scooper, he placed it near my eye as they grew wide when I realized what he was about to do. I tried to beg for him to stop, but all that came from my tongue wagging around in my toothless mouth was a jumble of babbled words and blood mixed with spit. The scooper dove into my eye socket as it dug into it making squishing noises as I thrashed my head around, trying to get it out, only to be quickly met with another hold that quickly immobilized it. My eye being torn out of it's socket along with the few scales surrounding it. A scrambled scream escaped my mouth and an even louder one when he ripped out the other eye. I only saw darkness as I felt the blood from my sockets pour down my cheeks.

A cold sharp blade touched my cheek, digging into my bloody skin, I felt it slice open my mouth and then cut out my tongue. I could no longer move my jaw at all. I no longer had a desire to scream, not that I could with my mouth gone. All I wanted was it to be over! For the agonizing pain to end. Just for him to crush my torn heart and end it. But it would not end, not yet, the man had pulled open his ears and whispered into it. "This is punishment for disobeying your parents..." I was confused the moment he said that and then ripped off my ears, How had I disobeyed them? Then, I remembered the small detour I took to give the poor man in the alley the three gold. How could he had known about that! How did he know about my parents telling me to come straight home or about the poor man in the alley I visited!? There was only one person who could have the power and be evil enough to torture and kill over such a small sin. Magia. I knew that was who this man was, he was Magia, that would explain how he had paralyzed him with his touch, and how he had enchanted gauntlets. I then felt a cold chill cover my broken and should-be-dead body. Like the grip of death was finally wrapping itself around me to release me from this pain. With one final and silent gasp, the last of my life dissipated, into the sweet embrace of death. That night, my family burned in their sleep and awoke with me in heaven.