FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer: This story is full of awful things, like torture. This will probably be the lightest this series ever dares to get, so if it's too much, then you'd better turn tail right now.

If you're under eighteen, well... there's nothing sexual in this one. But you shouldn't be here anyway, especially if you like this kind of thing. Stay far, far away, kids. Don't be like this little guy. Ever.

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"Well... Hi." Danny said, his lips curling up into a little grin. The sight of the little chick sort of made him happy. "Hey there."

The chick simply peeped its response, bobbing its head up and down, a beak wide open and begging for food.

"Where did you come from?" the weasel kit whispered as he picked the baby bird up in his paws. He looked up at the nest which was empty. "Did your momma push you out? That wasn't very nice of her." The chick looked at him and peeped again.

"You'll all alone now. That's sad to hear... but I can help you, little guy. I'll get you..." Danny looked around. All he'd brought with him was a little pale and shovel. Some kids would race little toy cars, some kids would pretend to be superheroes, but Danny was trying to make a sandcastle out of dry sand.

"I guess I didn't bring you a snack, did I? Sorry..." He set the chick gently down on the ground, and grabbed his pale, pouring the sand out for his new little friend. "I'll just keep you in here, away from cats and stuff."

Danny looked over his shoulder at the house, and turned back to the robin. His face looked concerned. "I don't think Fran would want you in our house. She's really nice, but she's old, too. She doesn't like it when I track mud or sand or stuff in. I don't think she'd let me keep you. But don't worry, alright? I'll take care of you."

His lips curled into his best comforting grin. Danny's teeth were sharp, and they glinted a little in the sunlight. The robin let out a scared little peep. "Hey, don't be nervous. I--"

"Danny! Danny, honey, supper! Come in now!" An old tigress poked her head out of the doorway, and gestured with a paw.

"Oh geeze, it's Fran... alright, stay here. I'll bring you a little something after dinner." He whispered as he sat the chick down on the ground. It made a dissatisfied peep. Danny gave it a worried look.... was the robin's leg broken? He took the pale, and gently placed it over the robin. That would keep the cats away.

"Just be ok." he whispered softly, and then he slunk up the stairs, and into his foster-parent's house. The robin peeped. It was lonely. The inside of the pale was dark. The baby bird quivered.

But Danny didn't come back for four days.

It was a cold, cloudy afternoon when the weasel kit returned, his backpack slung over his shoulder, full of useless paper and tools of learning. He stepped up to the door and let out a low groan when he found it locked. Fran was still at work.

So he was stuck outside on this cloudy day? It would probably rain soon... Danny climbed off the porch and set his backpack down, trotting up to the sandbox. He searched around a little bit, and found his shovel and...

There was his pale. He lifted it up, and there, staring at him with empty, weak eyes, was the robin chick. It made the weasel kit shiver to look at it. It just looked so unhealthy. Its feathers were falling off of it in clumps, and its little eyes were sunken into its head. It peeped weakly as it saw his face.

"Oh no... I forgot about you, little guy." Danny choked back a few tears, his paws quivering as he tenderly picked up the baby bird. "I didn't mean to. I just... I just forgot."

The robin chirped in pain as it was lifted from the ground by shaking fingers, and clutched tightly to the boy's blue cotton t-shirt. Danny tried to be careful with it as he brought it up to the porch, and gently pulled on the handle. But the door wouldn't open. It was still locked. He let out a nervous groan.

He couldn't feed the starving chick.... but his mind was thinking. What had he heard? Was there any information that would help the little robin? Danny's face brightened as he remembered something... anything. Sand. Birds needed to eat sand from time to time, right?

Cautiously, he brought it over to the sandbox. "Here..." Danny said, holding out a pinch of sand. "Eat it." The robin's head was bobbing hungrily again, and its beak was stretched grotesquely wide, searching for food, any food. Gingerly, the weasel kit poured a little sand into the beak.

It snapped shut immediately, and the Robin's dry throat clenched up immediately. It made a dry, pained peep, and closed its beak to Danny, whose expression was growing more saddened by the second. "C'mon!" He wheezed. "You have to eat! C'mon, or you'll starve!"

The robin didn't dare open its beak again. It simply looked at Danny, staring with unthinking eyes. "C'mon!" he yelped, and he took the robin in his paw. "What are you doing? Eat it!"

The chick refused. It didn't even peep. Danny clenched his paw, holding the bird up close to his muzzle. His lips were curling back. "What are you doing?!" Its beak didn't open.

Danny was saddened. Danny was furious. "C'mon." he sort of snarled, holding the bird tightly in his paw. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against its head, trying to make its jaws open. "Open up! Eat it!"

The little chick struggled in vain, its mouth opening up to let out a frightened peep. Immediately, Danny stuffed his claws in its beak, to keep it from closing. He poured a little more sand down the baby bird's throat, and it jerked violently in his hand, trying in vain to close its beak, which was now being stretched painfully wide.

"You have to eat!" The weasel kit growled. A few tears were forming in his eyes, and his teeth were bared. "You have to eat it or you'll die! Do you want that? Do want to die?!" Keeping the beak torn wide open with is claws, he began to pour sand down the struggling thing's throat, its body thrashing futilely against his paw.

Feeling it struggle made Danny feel a little... excited. He didn't know the word for it, but it scared him and made him feel good at the same time. It was electrifying, that was a good word... It boiled his blood. He force-fed the bird more and more sand, until it was literally trying to vomit up the gritty stuff.

Danny snarled, and gripped it even harder, making sure it wouldn't get away. His fingers and his claws pressed harder and harder against the chick's head. It wasn't going to get away. Danny wouldn't let it. It was going to DIE without him. It NEEDED him. If it tried to run, then it WANTED to die. The robin chick let out one last terrified shriek of pain.

His eyes were blurry from tears when his paws finally felt that wonderful feeling of bone giving way for the first time. He heard a delicious crack as he literally snapped the robin's body in two, the blood leaking out of its beak and eyes as Danny's vicious claws bent it in horrible ways, destroying its spine, its ribs, and all its internal organs.

Danny panted furiously. His hair was standing on end, his eyes were burning. He hadn't blinked the entire time. For an hour, he sat, staring at its limp and mutilated body. His chest was heaving with excited panting; his paws were shaking with delight. Danny was frightened out of his mind, and it filled his heart with joy.

His foster mother, Fran, found him cradling the dead chick's body like a beloved doll, his cheeks stained with tears and blood. At the time, she thought he had been crying, unable to save the robin from a stray cat or some such thing. He stopped immediately when he felt her hand on his shoulder, looking up at her with watery eyes. His fur bristled, and he quickly got to his feet.

Fran was worried, understandably. "Is it dead?"

Danny nodded.

"Did you find it like that?"

Danny nodded again.

"You shouldn't pick up dead birds... they've got germs, you know. You could catch something nasty." She said in a warm, motherly tone.

"Can I bury it?" Danny asked, in a very convincingly sad voice.

"Of course, honey."

Danny's lips curled up into a little smile.