Junk for Joy

Story by Htedomsa on SoFurry

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#1 of Furworld

Rough Draft of Chapter One of my story of gritty fur crime and addiction showcasing the horrors of an ill spent life and just how easy it is to fall into.


Junk for Joy

By Htedomsa

The humidity was really the worst of the walk. Taslin hated the way the moisture seemed to turn everything sticky and worthless. It was probably too much to hope for northerly wind or a summer storm to take away the offending mist. It was total bullshit and completely in the ordinary. As she padded down the derelict street the fox tried to concentrate on her fix. Her next fix to be exact. Delco was a scumbag but he sold the best go powder you could get around the festering urban city scape. Grinding her teeth again, Taslin was crated with the taste of copper. A remind that her mouth was bleeding somewhere again. She had been up for 5 days, maybe more and it was showering. The body shared its protest with pain and the pangs that came standard in withdrawal. Her speed had run out early that morning and the determined fox was not about to get a case of dope sickness if she could avoid it. The money for the bag of powdered bliss she sought hadn't come without its price, but the man who had paid for it would most likely never be found. No harm no foul. Taslin cursed Delco for living so far from her rat hole apartment and picked up the pace. Before long a familiar rotting building appeared out of the fine mist that was beginning to setting. The tweaking foxing moving quickly to a boarded up door on the buildings side and knocked in a familiar pattern given to her by the wolf inside. Three returning knocks told her it was ok to enter for business. You didn't enter Delco's without the knock. The blood stain from the last poor shmuck who did still decorated the inside of the door. Slipping between rusted nails and grime Taslin walked from a hallway from what was a starring example of a building condemned. Then to the first door on the left and the filth inside. Despite the roaches, and long smoked cigarette butts ground into the floor Delco made up most of that category. The wolf sat on an ancient sofa seemingly unconcerned with it mold and bug content. As always Taslin hesitated in disgust but her craving pushed her forward in to Delco's words.

"Well come over here woman, do you want your sunny day or not." Delco ashed a cigarette on the ground and motioned for Taslin to come over to him and his decrepit coffee table and its allure of forbidden poisons.

"You know I do." Taslin sighed in frustration Delco always had the same dick greeting with the same shit eating grin. He fit the low life dealer role to a 'T'. Maybe even too much. Another slash of blood in her mouth brought Taslin back to the business at hand. "Just the usual."

"If you insist." Delco looked over his filthy table and eyed a syringe before returning Taslin's gaze with a toothless gin. Well mostly toothless. "You should really try the new stuff, it'll take you where you wanna go kid, I promise."

"You know I just stick with the usual." The fox grimaced as she looked way from the dirty needle and to a bag of off powder on the table. She handed Delco a crumpled some of cash and in turn received the bag she had been so eyeing. "This is enough." For now; she thought and shuddered.

"Well suit yourself sweet cheeks. Makes no difference to me." He took the money and pushed it away in the pocket of his worn green jacket. "Just don't come blaming me when you need to go to the moon and ain't got no fuel for the rocket."

Taslin took a folded piece of paper from here pocket and spread it on a small corner of Delco's table. She didn't trust was could live in that filth, but she needed to get good. In a process that seemed damn well automated the shook some of the powder out of the baggy it was in and blew it up her snout with a rolled dollar. Suddenly the weariness that brought her to the foul abode in the first place began to disappear. She couldn't tasted the blood anymore and the itching that had been plaguing her the last hour or so began to fade. Delco smiled. The wolf got some sick satisfaction from watching his customers get high. It was probably the promise of more money. He knew she'd be back. Taslin knew it too all too grimly but fuck thinking about that for now. Now it was time to go home rail a line and fly again all swathed in the slum she called home.

"Don't die, I'll need more you bastard." Taslin mouthed collected her treasure and heading for the door.

"Ah what? No goodbye kiss?" Delco blew a ring of foul smelling smoking in the foxes general direction. What a fucking perfect asshole.

"I'd rather kiss a belt sander." Taslin quipped rolling her eyes as she gave the dirty wolf the finger on as she slipped through the doorway.

The walk home was much faster. In fact it seemed brighter too, in mood a soul, and everything under the sun. The speed coursed its way through Taslin's veins and speeded her home. She barel even noticed the dead homeless fur she stepped over on the way to her apartment. God she was glad to be away from that prick Delco, but it was a small price to pay. You couldn't buy speed at the grocery store. At least not since they fired the night manager.

Home at last the eager fox shed her stained jacket and plopped down on her own filthy couch with its accompanying rotten table. Grinning like a school girl again Taslin laid herself out a line of amphetamine on the table where she always did. You could tell because of the razor blade cuts permanently engraved into it from cutting endless lines. At one point she wondered how much of the table varnish she had actually snorted but that thought was always blown away with a cloud of dopamine and the straight honest fact that she just didn't give a fuck. Using the same bill as before Taslin's nose greedily devoured the line. The fox felt no pain as the tiny crystals cut into her nostrils. The nerve endings had long since died away. It was probably for the better. The place smelled like shit, looked like shit, and the less Tas has to experience of it the better. As the wonder cure started its magic work her eyes grew glassy and rolled up toward the ceiling. She was flying. She was also coughing all of a sudden, but the blood it brought forth just turned into another stain on her grime coated seat. Some of the crimson dribbled from her maw onto her knew. Taslin just laughed. Who cares, she had more blood anyway. It was time to for space walk. A nice stroll far away from rotten dealers, cut up tables, and the bullshit world that made it all possible.

A commotion outside attracted Taslin's now completely focused attention. Getting to the window was a little stumbly but it was worth it for the site of two bums fighting over a forty oz. Free entertainment was always nice but they better settle their shit before she got tired of it. She was coming off her first dose and the word cranky would apply if it had a drug addled junkie description somehow pinned to it. SMASH! The bottle of piss poor booze broke on the street and the brawl became a lot more interesting. Taslin started routing for a rabbit in an old trench coat that was reaching for a rusty pipe nearby. It was just like wrestling without the TV. Plus the matches wore usually fatal so it served the clean the scum up if just a little bit here and there. The spying fox gasped as the weasel who was the other contender began to grab a rusty blade from his decayed pants. He didn't grab fast enough and the rabbit was in mid swing with his pipe. Taslin watched with tweaked glee as the pipe connected with the face of the weasel. She heard bones break and then the inevitable scream. Or what passed for one among the rack smoking vagrants. Most could barely gurgle with their destroyed wind pipes. The weasel began to stagger away bleeding and cursing but a quick glance at the rabbit showed the future. His eye's read murder, and his paws carried through. Just like that the rusted pipe was lodged in the weasel's throat. The poor bastard was looking down at the protruding metal with the shocked face of someone too high to realize they were dying. As that pipe and its new owner collapsed on the street Taslin thought it was about time for another line. She would celebrate. She picked the winning horse, or rabbit in this case. For a second high abated and she wondered in paranoid musings if the winning rabbit posed a threat to her. Almost as soon as the thought popped into her head it was back out again and giggling. Of course he wouldn't pose a threat. She'd just wait until the old fuck passed out and slit his throat. Just the others who caused trouble. All in all it was just another day in the life.

Again on her couch this time sprawled across it, Taslin reflected on the day as twilight slowly came on. Did it make her kind of bad person to dispose of those street urchins every so often? Nah. That was a stupid though. IF they didn't killed themselves fast enough someone had to do it. For Christ sake she had even dropped a cinder block on one who had sleep under her window. The laugher came back as she played back the event in her head. He hadn't even a chance to make a sound. The block had fallen straight on the squirrel's temple who had been napping in his own drunken piss. She didn't regret it. Though she could barely smell the bag-fur had the nasty habit of pissing under her window. That made it her problem. The disgusting puke welling way the situation presented itself deserved a suitable solution and so she had given it one. Lugging the cinderblock up three stories was a pain in the ass but the glow burning in her veins made the skinny fox barely feel a thing. She laughed as she remembered the dead on hit instantly flatting the bums face and her small cheer of "yes" as her delivery hit home. You'd thinking the dead body would smell worse than the piss, but luckily sanitation 'bots came through to remove the dead on the streets and no cops would ever come to this neighborhood. Not in this lifetime anyway.

Taslin sat pondering the necessary culling a moment (murder was much too vulgar a word for street cleaning) and then the thought came again. It was an image of the needle from Delco's and the temptation to just get to sticking already. She had tried it a couple of times though no one was privy to this little secret but her. The needle felt cold as it had entered her vein and the puncture was a feeling she would always remember. As it broke into her blood pipes Taslin recalled thinking of it like a hymen being ruptured. There was always the first time. It felt like god was giving her soul a massage.

As it turned out Taslin wasn't the only to discover the joy of shooting up. She found a fast friend in a fellow doper by the name of Narry Purlin. When they together to get high things couldn't be more fun. Though looking back at it she really should have realized what the tracks on Narry's arm were leading too. Just like the cinderblock it was a pain in the ass dragging the cold junkie's corpse out of her bathroom. The needle was still in her arm. Luckily for the seedy fox dead bodies weren't news in her shit hole of a community so nothing came of it. Nothing except the fear that was. She knew how to snort the stuff, but realizing a misdose could have her high life come crashing to the pavement was a smack of realization. Of sorts. She was still a speed addict, but at least she was being safe about it. So no needles. Besides here snout was already fucked up from the powder anyway. No sense in wasting a good wasting away she had thought. Besides Narry had always been a dumbass anyway.

As if to shoe the thoughts needles and dead bodies aside an alarm went off on Taslin's old digital watch. She hated alarms but this one was important. It marked when she would sit down (and stop pacing) to plan the most important thought process of the day. How to get more. She knew three things she could be sure of. She would run out of shit soon. She needed cash to buy the stuff. She then only had to walk to that shit head Delco's place and Mis Taslin would be floating on clouds once more. The planning was important. Taslin had no income in any sort of legitimate sense so it was her duty to make it work. Stealing from the rich neighborhoods downtown was risky and even dangerous, but there were other ways to get cash. She could, mug someone, maybe even kill them if the neighborhood was bad enough, rob a church, or hell even suck a dick. After all, it wasn't as if some strangers' cock was dirtier than her spun ass. At least she hadn't had to resort to that yet however.

The young tweaky fox had found a way to make paper in much the way Delco did. Not far from her building was the last stop for a school bus and she had found that some of those it carried enjoyed the candy just as much as she did. Of course she would cut it with caffeine pills, add some ginseng from the local market (it was free if they didn't see you walk out with it), and use the very same ginseng capsules to repackage her blend. The kids fucking loved it. It was almost as if they thought it was meth or some shit. Sometimes Tas mixed whatever chems she could find in. They always came back, and those stupid enough to complain about a bad batch were dealt with by the ugly ass bulldog whom she sold it too. Her plans made perfect sense there was so much less risk and the kids were less like to pull something. They were both naïve and scared of her, the perfect combination for the clandestine entrepreneur. At the end of the day one thing mattered. She was one sped fox, and would be the next day, and the day after that. Sometimes she almost felt like a slave to addiction, but a few moments of high consideration would stamp that thought out as just stupid bullshit. She wasn't a slave to anything, she controlled her fixes, she controlled her little speed students, and nothing, nothing was going to stand in the way of that.

So with a grin and a practiced shaky hand Taslin begin her work of cutting and making her 'special pills' with the delight of a celebrity chef. She was proud of her work after all. So what if one of the brats died or had a bad trip. They were kids, neglected, forgotten, and there were always more. You'd think some furs would want to keep their legs shut after they lost a few of the little fuck midgets. Taslin didn't think that was likely since many of the children were whore-son's and their methy mommies bought it from the same place she did with no one the wiser. Worse came to worse she would just shadow one of the whore parents to Delco's and stick a knife in them before they made the purchase. It never aroused suspicion. Just like kids there were always more whores. Devil bless the oldest profession. Fuck god, if there was one wouldn't they just hand the shit out at church?