Chapter 1 > Its been a couple of weeks since you moved to this dead little town. A nice enough place but pretty much the least exciting place this side of the colour beige. > As you stagger along the street after your two new 'friends' (they seem a little flakey so you use that term cautiously), you take another swig of warm beer, purloined from one of their dads or uncle or someone, and try to work out exactly how you had come to spend your halloween in such poor fashion. > Your name is Anon Yancy Mous, considering how everyone else you knew had a nice normal name like Bill, or Mike or even Sinbad, you suspect your parents were probably high when they chose yours. So you just go with Anon. > After leaving school you'd had it all planned out, go to college, study hard, take your pick of all the high paying jobs inevitably competing for you and live it large until retirement or coke overdose, whichever came first. > Sadly this hadn't quite happened. > Just after leaving school there had been an... incident of sorts... One involving a few pot brownies, the local priest's lovely daughter, some communion wine and possibly your step dad's new car. Things had gotten fuzzy by that last part but you had been assured by some very reliable (and angry sources) that it was indeed true. The end result had been a shitstorm like no other you had caused before. You were lucky to avoid jail time but by the end of it you had been disowned, given a criminal record, the aforementioned priest had sent his daughter off to be cloistered and worse of all, you had missed out on your choice of college. > So here you were, on your own, in the only college desperate enough for students to let you in, and a month late no less into the first semester... > As you ponder your current lot in life a shout from ahead pulls you back to reality. One of your new friends is trying to get your attention. Its Phillip, an anthro racoon. > "Hey Anon? You awake back there?" he yells, a little worse for wear himself this evening he seems to have lost any notion of volume control. > "Yeah I can hear you, what you want?" you yell back. The evening so far had been a bust, along with the crap booze it had resulted in your mood taking a plunge into grumpy town. > "I asked you a question dumbass but you were all away with the faeries and shit!" he retorted. "I said, if you could go invisible and peek on any chick in town, who would it be?" > He'd been coming out with questions like this pretty much since day one. It was like he had never actually grown up much since the first year of high school and hadn't graduated to full blown "who would you bang?" questions. It was tiring and a bit sad... > With a sigh you throw him a bone, if only to avoid another awkward silence. > "I dunno man, I only just got here." you start. Before he can complain though you continue. "How about that uhh... blond chick from... that coffee place?" > You'd made her up but it got a chuckle from Phillip. > "You mean Suzie? Aww man that's tight!" > You had to find some other friends... > Your other companion piped up. "Where else ain't we tried yet bros? There's gotta be someone we haven't hit up?" > That was Fred, another human like yourself. When he wasn't ditching college to go try score some weed, he was to be found stumbling around trying not to look high. Anywhere else would have kicked him out by now, but as it happens this particular place of learning had some very low standards. > The three of you had been wandering around town trying to talk your way into someone, hell anyone's halloween party. The promise of booze, music and the chance to actually meet some new people here had drawn you out in a mad professor costume. Sadly, the two that had latched on to you on day one were the local social pariahs, which had killed your social life stone dead from then on. Every party had taken one look at giggles and stoner McGee here and sent you packing. You had been wandering around town ever since. Bored out of you mind, and starting to suspect the beer Fred had brought was actually of the light variety. > As you consider bailing, Phillip suddenly pipes up. "Oh I know, I know!" > You swear, if this is another "whose mom probably wears granny knickers?" question, you might just make the zombie costume wearing racoon go from pretend undead to real actual dead. > Stopping to face you and Fred, he bounces up and down on the spot full of excitement. His half finished, and only third beer, sloshing about in his hand. > "If we cant find somewhere to crash, why don't we find our own place to party!" > Fred is still pretty baked as far as you can tell so he just stands there, smiling like an idiot. Its up to you to try and work out what the bouncing furball has in mind. > "Sorry what?" you ask, you were staying in a box like hall of residence with a zero party, noise or even visitor policy and these two lived in their parents basements so where were you going to throw a party? > "First, where would we go? Second, who would we invite? Nobody likes us remember? Third, what we gonna party with? This?" > You hold up the mostly empty crate of beer Phillip had brought and give it a little shake to emphasise your point. > Completely unphased, the lightweight racoon continued. > "No I know a place! Really! Its a spooky old place not far from here. Been abandoned for like forever! If we set up in there and get some music playing then people will come to us! I mean who wouldn't want to party on halloween in a spooky old house right? They bring the booze an we're sweet see?" > The glaring flaw in this plan was of course, nobody would be seen anywhere near a party thrown by these two, even with a full body covering costume. Still... the only other option was to go back to your box and think of all the parties you could have gone to if you hadn't banged the priest's daughter that fateful day... > "Fine..." you sigh. "We can at least go look at the place I guess. What about you Fred?" > Fred still had that stupid smile on his face and was busy trying to roll himself another joint. If it wasn't for the fact he dressed like that everyday, he would have really fooled people into thinking he had dressed up as a hobo for the night. > "Guess we're off to the spooky house then I guess..." ---------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 > Surprisingly true to his word, Phillip led the three of you to a large old house towards the edge of town. In its heyday it had been a large, three storied fancy house which (according to your slightly inebriated guide) had been home to a wealthy banker type. In the early days of the town there had been a gold rush and it was here that they would come to sell their spoils, sadly, unlike other gold rush towns, the mines had been shallow and run dry soon after founding. The guy who built the house, having invested everything he had here, promptly killed himself and his family. Leaving only the house behind to mark his passing, and a whole lot of ghost stories. > Phillip turns back to face you both, somehow mistaking Fred's zoned out stoner smile and your look of dubiousness for adoration or something. "I know! Right!?!" he chirps. > Your having second thoughts about all this now. The house is looking pretty run down, certainly not the kind of place a group of drunken students could party without all getting tetanus, cracked on the head by rotten chunks of falling ceiling or shanked by whatever squatting addicts might happen to be passed out there... > "Ya know what Phil..." you start, feeling bad about dousing his enthusiasm. "Its already way past 9, it took us forever to get here and anyone who wants to party is probably at one already... Why don't we head back and just try Justin's place again? That doberman he had acting as a bouncer outside looked pretty fed up earlier, I bet that if we went back now and offered him some of Fred's stuff he may be more willing to turn a blind eye..." > To this Fred actually responded, shaking enough of his stupor off to give you a wavering finger anyway. > It was no good however, Phillip wasn't going to give up on his dream of a party. > "Aww don't chicken out now man we're already here! Come on check over the place, if we can get in then that's half the battle right?" he quipped. > When you made no immediate move to follow him up the path towards the door he turned to dirty tactics. Making his best chicken impression he began to cluck at you. > "C'mon Anon, you scared? Like a big old chicken? Buk buk bukaw!!" > The sound of a drunken racoon trying to make chicken noises was more than your frayed nerves could handle tonight, so with yet another sigh you get moving. He was lucky, if the anthro rooster over on the football team had heard him do that then... Yeah, there would be a serious amount of furry butt kicking. Fred shuffled along behind you, if any of this was actually making sense to him then you would be greatly surprised. > The front door was, of course, locked tight. Instead you went around the back. As luck would have it there was a doggy door, not big enough for an average human or anthro to crawl through, but a particularly scrawny racoon? > After a bit of squeezing and what counted as cursing for Phillip ("ow my knee, oh hamburgers!"... sigh), he was through. There was no key or latch for the back door so heading once more back to the other side he managed to unlock the heavy front door. > Once inside, he began twirling something in his hand. It looked like the key. > "Where'd you find that?" you ask, curious as to how he ferreted it out so quickly in the dark. > With a grin he pointed to the door. "It was just sitting there in the lock, weird huh?" > Oh, not so impressive then... > Deciding against splitting up, you decide to explore the creepy old house together. Its pitch black in here so you use the torch app on your phone. The battery is pretty low so it would have been better for the others to do it, except Phillip's phone was a relic from the stone age (the most advanced function was that it could play snake) and Fred didn't have one, either he'd lost it or just plain sold it for weed money. > The old house had surely seen better days. Everything was covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs, no one had touched anything for a long time. There were a few items of furniture here and there but all obscured by sheets left to protect against the dust. > You stood in a long hall that run along the centre of the house. It ended in the kitchen in the back where you had come from, doorways to the left and right led to what looked like a parlour and sitting rooms. There was also a large flight of stairs leading up and a smaller door below them that looked like it must lead to a basement. > A cursory examination of the ground floor told you two things. Any attempt to move the furniture or sheets covering them would disturb enough dust to choke all three of you to death or at least screw up your lungs forever more. > The second thing was that this was no place to party. It was too dark without a full set of lighting equipment and no power or anything to play music on? This whole idea was DOA. > "Ok we've had a look around, nothing here. No way we'd be able to clean this place up in time for a party or set up some tunes dude, lets just get out of here." Hopefully he would see sense. > Phillip wasn't ready yet to give in though, maybe it was the light beer or maybe his dreams of his own party were just too much to give up on, either way he wasn't done just yet. > "Don't be so defeatist my man!" he chimed. "All we need is a bit of power and we'll be rockin in no time! There should be a fuse box down in the basement!" > Snatching your torch phone out of your hand, the determined little shit runs over to the basement door and yanks it open. > Chasing after him, you very nearly knock him over when he stops short in front of the open basement door. > "Goddamnit Phil!" you shout. "Don't go snatching my shit like that, I gotta make this phone last, if it breaks then its going to be months before I can afford to repair it!" > For once, the annoying little voice is quiet. What he is staring at soon catches your eye too. There's an eerie green light coming from below. > If this house has been empty for so long that even the dust has dust, how come there's still power in the basement? > Its at this point, as inevitably as fate itself, Fred stumbles over to see what the fuss is about, and knocks the pair of you tumbling down the stairs. As you lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom, you can just make out his face, lit up slightly as he puffs on his joint, a look of complete ignorance marking his features. "Oops..." he just about mutters, before taking another puff. ----------------------------------------------- Chapter 3 > It takes you a few minutes to work out that nothing is broken, you'll undoubtedly feel it tomorrow morning but for now at least you can move. Your glad you had put the remaining beers down upstairs after you came in. > Phillip seems to have survived about the same as you, despite some dishevelled fur he seems ok. > Eventually Fred joins you downstairs, he's already forgotten what he just did. "Woah dudes, watcha doing down down here? Kinda spooky..." > Urge to kill, rising... > Despite your need to throttle some sense into this idiot you cant help but agree with his assessment. Now that your at the bottom of the stairs the green light is a bit stronger, strong enough in fact to allow you a look at your surroundings. > Instead of opening up into a proper basement, a small corridor leads off ahead from the stairs. The walls are covered with papers of some sort, fluttering slightly in some sort of air current flowing down here. The green light causing them to cast some pretty freaky moving shadows too... There's not enough light to read what's on them however. > At the end of the corridor is a door, it is partly open, allowing the light to escape but not a view of what's within. > The little voice in your head that is supposed to keep you alive is very much screaming at you now to get up and retreat. Sadly your in this whole sorry mess pretty much because you very rarely listen to it. > Without a word, the three of you shuffle over to the door, your curiosity piqued despite yourselves. With a mournful screech, you push the heavy door and head inside. > To be honest you had been expecting some sort of creepy dungeon. The light coming from a bubbling cauldron or something. Instead what you find is arguably worse. > The light is coming from an old computer monitor, the green lines of an old error message shining bright in the darkness and causing the eerie glow. The rest of the room seems to be set up like some sort of lab, medical equipment is scattered along the shelves and there are a couple of glass cabinets with shining bottles within. There's a metal table of some sort in the middle of the room, everything behind the computer is shrouded in shadow. You can make out a noise however, it sounds vaguely like a bubbling fish tank or something... > "What is this stuff you think?" asks Phillip, not quite as confident as he was before. Either the fall or the creepy surroundings were taking their toll on him. > "I dunno..." you reply. "Tell you what though, if this place has been abandoned since ye olde times, there really shouldn't be all this stuff in here..." > Your wracked suddenly by a cold chill, shuddering through you from head to toe. Your old Nan used to say that when that happened, it was someone walking over your grave... > "Ok you know what?" you say, trying to force confidence into your voice that simply wasn't there. "I vote we get of here. Now. There's some crazy looking shit down here and-" > The rest of your sentence is cut short. Fred, blissfully unaware of your surroundings, had been trying to roll another joint in the dark. He had dropped his pouch though and was starting to loose his shit. > "Aww shit I dropped my shit!" he complained. "Help me look yo!" > Before you could even consider plotting any violent responses, Fred had spotted something glistening on the wall. A big old switch. > "We need some light on in here." he stated and flipped the switch. > The result was a large strip light flickering to life by the door and a blinding flash from what looked like one of those lamps they have in the doctor's office. The sudden change from dark to bright light leaving you stunned. > When your eyes eventually recovered, they were met with a more gruesome sight than the dim light had suggested. > The room itself had perhaps once been a sterile white, but now the walls were a sickly yellow. The glass cabinets were not simply filled with glass jars, oh no, but what looked like pickled body parts. > In horrified fascination you picked out what looked like a floating cat's paw (anthro judging by the size), a ragged looking heart, a jar of blind looking eyes (some slitted like a feline, some tinted red...), what looked like a partially bisected brain and a whole lot more you couldn't bring yourself to identify. > The metal table looked like the ones they used in a morgue for autopsies, complete with little drain for water and drained body fluids... It was stained in several places with dark brown patches that looked ominously like dried blood... There were also several grooves marring the shiny surface where something had been cut with some sort of power tool. > In the corner, where the shadows had been before, stood two large boxes or crates of some kind. One was stood up against the wall and looked very much like a coffin... while the other looked like an old freezer. > "Ok, this is fucked up, lets go!" you croak, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Phillip has other ideas however. > While you had been staring at the body parts, he had sidled over to the computer and was pressing some of the dusty keys. > "Dude no! Don't touch that shit!" you cry. "You don't know what it does!" > "Relax Anon." he replied. "I'm like a master hacker, give me a minute and I'll find out what's on this thing." > As far as you knew, his 'mad hacking skills' basically included the time he'd vandalized his high school web page, not from actual hacking though, one of the teachers had forgotten to log out and he took advantage... > Fred was also busy, having found his weed he had wandered over to the freezer and was trying to get it open. > "Fred! The fuck!?!" was just about all you could say at this point. If these two idiots didn't get you killed before dawn it would be a small miracle. > With a squeak of success, Phillip had managed to reboot the computer. You would have been impressed if he hadn't just switched it off and back on again... > "Looks like some sort of control system or somthin..." he muttered. > Even as you reached over to stop him you knew it was too late. He had hit the big 'ACTIVATE' icon. > With a hiss the big coffin like box slowly opened, causing Fred to jump and run back behind you. What it revealed was a large glass tank, and inside? A large dark figure, little bubbles flowing around it, its features hidden by the green murky liquid inside. > "The hell you just do?" you whispered urgently to the now very freaked out looking racoon. > "I dunno man... I just pressed a button..." he whined. > "Well press it again and switch it off idiot!" you hiss at him. > As he starts to type on the keyboard however, a big green error message pops up on screen. ERROR - AUTHENTICATION FAILURE - SYSTEM PURGE IN PROGRESS > "What you do now!?!" you yell, a sudden loud beeping making the need to whisper redundant. > Before your horrified eyes, the tank begins to drain. The figure within becoming slightly more clear in the process. Its an anthro, you can tell that much, but it seems... off somehow... > As you watch, unable to pull your eyes away from the spectacle before you, it moves. > "D-did you guys just...?" whimpered Phillip, visibly shaking now. > Before you can answer, the thing inside begins to flail around violently. Knocking into the sides of its container and shaking it. > As you turn to leave two things happen, the first is that a wet, furry fist comes smashing through the thick glass, sending shards across the room and the fear of god through your very bones. The second thing is that you notice Phillip and Fred have already made a break for the stairs, leaving you behind. > "Hey wait for me!" you shout after them. They take no notice and keep running. > As you barrel down the corridor and hit the stairs, a bestial roar comes from behind as whatever that thing is pulls itself free of the tank. > You don't dare look back. > Taking the stairs two at a time you finally make it up to the hallway, just in time to see Phillip and Fred pulling the big front door shut, from the outside. > "Wait! No no no no no!" you scream, but to no avail. The two keep pulling on the door, their faces contorted in fear and with the effort of pulling the stiff old door. > It slams shut just as you get there, the sound of the key turning hits you like a brick. > Banging your fists against the hard wood you try and call them back. "Hey what the fuck!?! Open the door!! I'm still in here!!!" > Phillip's wheezing voice can just about be heard from outside. "No way Anon! I'm sorry but you saw that thing! I'm not letting it out of there! Shoulda been faster man!" > Desperation mixed with fear and frustration does not a happy Anon make. > "Stop fucking talking and open the door already you stupid shit!!! I could of come out and run back in again by now! Its still downstairs! JUST OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!!!" > Further attempts at polite negotiation were cut short, by the sound of something slowly making its way up the basement stairs. > "Oh shit its coming!" you yell, please just open the door!" > Instead you get silence. A peek through the letterbox shows you that the two cowardly bastards are hightailing it down the road, with the damned door key! > If you had more time, the logical part of your brain would have told you to make for the windows, or try kicking your way through the doggy door. Instead, in typical scary movie fashion, you run straight up the stairs like a little bitch, trapping yourself good and proper. > Once upstairs, you realise your folly, its too late to head back downstairs again so you head off in search of a good hiding place. > The thing downstairs roars again, it must be in the hall now. No time! > You find yourself in a musty old bedroom, heading over to the window shows you that its been boarded up from the outside, and has bars on it. Oh, good. > Swearing internally at every god, deity and flying spaghetti monster you could think of, you take the last option available and hide under the bed. > Hidden from sight you remember your phone, quickly pocketed after Phillip stole it, you hoped it hadn't smashed in the fall. Its intact! Huzzah! > With dismay however, you see its down to 1% battery life, and then it promptly dies. > You don't have time for despair. The sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door pull your full attention. > As the creature stomps inside, you really start to wish that you'd just stayed in your room tonight... ----------------------------------------------- Chapter 4 > You've been hiding under the bed now for what feels like an eternity. Once the creature entered the room, you had closed your eyes and waited, either for it to leave or tear up the bed and find you. Neither of which happened. > At first you had hoped it had just left more silently than it had arrived, but a few seconds of holding your own breath soon revealed the sound of the creature's. A heavy rasping wheeze. > Did it know you were hiding in here? Was it trying to wait you out? Had it chosen this particular room to chill out in and it was just bad luck on your part? > As the minutes ticked by, you started to loose your nerve. The temptation to just roll on out and make a run for it was beginning to get the better of you. Anything had to be better than just waiting here for it, right? Right!?! The little voice which normally spoke up about your imminent survival and doom, that you usually ignored, had remained silent, apparently having taken offence and leaving you in the mess you had created. > Whatever happened next, you needed to know where in the room it was. No point rolling out if it was standing right in that spot waiting. > As stealthily as you can, you strain your neck this way and that, trying to see out from your hiding place without moving too much. Left? Clear. Right? Clear. Down? Aw crap. > The bottom of the bed faced towards to door, from you position you could make out the doorway in the darkness, and a pair of clawed feet. It was standing directly between you and freedom, however short lived it would be with the door downstairs locked... > A few more minutes pass, nothing has happened. Apart from your back seizing up from laying on the cold, hard floor for so long. > Just as your trying to imagine yourself somewhere else, anywhere else really... disaster strikes. A little spider starts to crawl its way up your cheek, its heading up towards your nose. > You have to suppress your first instinct, which is to scream like a girl and slap at your face. You cant risk making any sound. Your going to have to sit it out and hope it continues on its way. > The seconds tick by as the furry little arachnid climbs ever upwards, you can track its progress by the feel of its tickly little legs up your cheek. Soon its on your upper lip, slowly climbing just under your nose. You silently beg it to just bugger off, holding your breath all the while. > Its not to be though, it decides to stop and wait just at opening to your left nostril. You cant take it! You have to breathe in! Your chest is starting to burn! > As slowly as you can, you suck in some air. Its no good though, the furry little blighter has tickled your nose! Despite your best efforts to stop it, a massive sneeze breaks loose. > "AAACHOOOOO!!!" > The spider goes flying to who knows where, your forehead hits the underside of the bed with a painful and very loud crunch. > Silence. > Just as you begin to hope against hope that the thing out there might just be deaf, a clawed hand reaches under the bed and grabs hold of your ankle. > With one last curse at the bastard spider, your dragged out from your hiding place, and into the waiting grasp of whatever had been stalking you. -------------------------------------------- > The sight that meets your now dark accustomed eyes, scares what little breath you had left in your body, and stifles the scream that had so desperately tried to escape. > It is indeed an anthro, but not like any you've ever seem before. Its huge! Easily a good head taller than you (if you'd have been standing up anyway...) and with shoulders wide enough to dwarf your own. Its hard to make out its fur colour in the dark but its definitely a big cat. You can make out the outline of its head, two small round ears poking out from each side, and two glowing eyes. > It reaches down with a large clawed paw and picks you clean up off the floor by the front of your shirt. > As you dangle there, helpless in its grip, it begins to sniff at you. Big snorts and snuffles, you really hope you smell bad today. When was the last time you showered again? > "Mmmaassteerrr?" > Did it just say something? Did it call you... master? What's with its voice too? Either you had a whole colony of spiders blocking up your ears or this is a very effeminate sounding monster... > "D-did y-you call m-me master?" you stutter. > The creature again tried to speak, but couldn't seem to form the words. In the end it gave up, coughed up something onto the floor (hard to tell in the dark but you think it might be some of that green tank goo) and simply swung you up and over its shoulder. > The shock of finding yourself in this position, carried of like it was Tarzan and you were Jane, was only offset by the realisation that this thing was actually female. How did you know this? Well, the voice was a mighty hint but it would probably be the large boob your legs were being tightly held against that really gave the game away... > Despite your feeble protests (both verbal and physical), the big cat proceeded to carry you back down the stairs and through to the basement lab. You held out some small hope that your two cowardly acquaintances (they had been downgraded from cautious friends for obvious reasons) might still return to help you, your eyes lingering on the locked front door until it was out of sight. You had hoped they had gone for help, more likely Phillip had run home to hide under his own bed while Fred was somewhere spliffing up, having already forgotten your name, and probably where he lived... > Once your captor had reached the lab, she dropped you back down to your feet and then shut the big door behind you. There was no way out now... > One positive? The lights were still on so you could get a good look at this thing before it murders you or anything. > Finally getting a clear look in the harsh light of the lab, you can now understand why her profile had seemed off to you before. > The creature wasn't so much a particularly large anthro cat, it was what looked like a number of different anthro cats stitched together to form the mismatching whole before you. > Its head looked to be mostly panther, short black fur broken only by lines of scar tissue running from the top of her head, down between her eyes, curling along her right cheek and disappearing back behind her ear. It was her eyes that somehow drew more attention than the scar, one was a bright green while the other was a sky blue... > Another line of scarring pocked by stich marks marked the point where the panther ended and what looked like tiger began. Her chest (and generous bosom) had the tell tale stripes of a tiger, broken only by the strip of white down the front and yet more scars. Her left arm seemed to be attached naturally but the right bore the markings of what looked like a leopard, the spots contrasting with the stripes. > From the waste down things got a little confusing. The torn and sodden remains of an old medical gown hung from her sizable hips, obscuring the point where tiger stopped and what you could only assume was a mix of lion and snow leopard began. Both legs were different, either by chance or twisted design they looked roughly the same size, but a patchwork of scarring on the lion side foot made the act of walking look painful. The swishing grey tail of a snow leopard poking out from behind suggested which of the two big cats had 'donated' the pelvis along with their leg. > While you stood there, gawping at the patchwork cat before you, she just stood there, seemingly waiting for something. > With another hacking cough she suddenly spat out another glob of tank water, clearing her breathing up slightly and apparently freeing up her vocal cords. > With a deep but oddly melodious voice, she spoke again. > "Master? You came back? Where did you go? You smell different..." > With a start, you realise that she must think your the one who... what? Made her? Put her in the tank? Why would she think that? > A quick look at the wall gives you your answer. An old photo frame, covered in dust, shows a familiar looking human in a lab coat, proudly accepting some award or other. Your still in your mad professor outfit... the lab coat! But how could she not tell your not that guy? A closer look at her odd eyes shows that their slightly unfocused, perhaps they don't work so well... If she's never seen anyone else but this 'master' of hers then maybe she doesn't know any better. > Trying to keep calm, you hatch a plan. If your her master then surely it would be a simple thing to order her to simply let you leave. > First things first, how do you address her? Do you simply bark out an order? Does she have a name? > Fuck it. > "Ahem!" (gotta make this sound impressive and commanding). "As your master I order you to open that door and show me the way out!" You say this in your loudest and most grandiose voice that you can muster short of shouting. > Her response? > "No." > Nuts. -------------------------------------------- Chapter 5 > It had been a long shot, hoping that your patchwork captor would let you go just because you told her to. Instead, you were still trapped, scared shitless and now confused too. > "If I'm your master then why wont you listen to me?" you ask angrily. > She gave you a confused look. > "You are not my master." > Say what now? But... > Your blank look elicited further explanation. > "You are master, but you are not my master. I only obey my master." > It took a moment of pondering on your part before the clouds parted and understanding finally dawned. If the crazy bastard she knew as master who owned this lab was the only person she had ever met, then it was possible that the next human she met, who also happened to be wearing a lab coat, would be identified by the same name. > With this little mystery apparently solved, all that was left is what happened next. > "If I cant leave then what do you want from me?" > Again, she simply stood there, staring at you with her strange two-toned eyes. Either she didn't really have any idea or she expected you to know what happens next. > "You are not my master." she repeated. "But you are master... So you must do what I am for, yes?" > This was making less sense by the second. She obviously had some sort of expectation here... but what? > As you continue to stand there dumbfounded, she suddenly looks down at her half naked self and makes a strange groaning sort of noise. > Looking back up at you, a freaky lopsided smile appears on her face. > "Ah, I am not ready. You must wait. I will get ready like master told me, then you start." > With little effort she yanked the heavy lab door open and stepped through. As she started to pull it closed your brain finally caught up with reality and you run over. > "Wait!" you yell, struggling to be heard over the screeching of the aged hinges. "Start what? What do you want from me!?!" > Stopping before the door shuts completely, she looks back in at you and smiles again. > "To breed of course master, its what I am for." > With a final squeal the big door closes completely. There is no sign of a handle or latch anywhere, she must have just opened it using some crazy brute strength. > Left alone, her last words seem to echo through you. The fuck did she mean by breed? What is this place!?! ------------------------------------------------ > Panic once again setting in, you begin to search the lab and look for something that might help; a weapon, another way out, a telephone or anything! > Apart from some very old medical equipment there's nothing of much use. Considering her size there was nothing here that could be used effectively to fight her off. There were some locked drawers where you suspect the more useful instruments like scalpels and such might be hidden, without a key however there was no way to gain access. > You head back over to the computer. Maybe this thing had internet access? There's a chance you could get a message to someone... > A few taps on the keyboard and your hopes are again dashed. Closed network. No external connections. > Well that's it then. Your trapped, prisoner of some strange cat woman who is off preparing to do god knows what to you. > Even as you start to sink in to despair,something catches your attention. A small blinking icon at the bottom of the screen, highlighting it reveals a file labelled 'journal'. > With nothing else to really do with yourself except freak out you decide to have a look through it. > Most of what's in there is scientific jargon that you have no hope of understanding. There's enough other stuff there however that allows you to piece together what this place is. > The guy from the photo was one professor Derek Fitzroy. A discredited biologist and surgeon who had apparently decided to go full Frankenstein and create his own twisted form of life. > The name was ringing alarm bells in your memory somewhere, then it hit you, the damned Cat Burglar! > Even this town had one noteworthy old story, one that had made its way to you the first day you arrived. About five years ago there had been a string of disappearances through the suburbs. One by one local women were going missing from their homes, usually living alone or single. The perpetrator was soon dubbed by the local media as the 'Cat Burglar'. Why? Because all of the women who went missing were anthro cats. Someone was breaking in to their houses in the dead of night and stealing them away, one by one. As panic set in the police were helpless, until a few months in to the investigation they caught a break, and Fitzroy. > A patrolman pulled over a car for a routine stop, in the drivers seat he found the good doctor looking dishevelled and twitching. It gave him cause to search the rest of the car for what he thought must be drugs, instead he found an unconscious lynx under a blanket in the back seat. In the trunk they found a box of gruesome looking surgical gear and a series of blood stains. > Despite a full search of his home, the surrounding area and pretty much everywhere he had ever been spotted going, there had been no signs of any of the other missing women. In court he was found guilty all the same, the blood in his car matched a good number of their dna samples and he was sent away for life. From the point they arrested him however to the day of his incarceration, he refused to speak a single word, even in his own defense. > According to the notes on his computer, this was where he had hidden his victims. They had been murdered, cut apart and then he had put the bits and pieces he had deemed as the 'best' together to create the final result. > Why had he done all of this? Why go to the trouble of collecting all these anthro cat girl parts? The answer is of course the same as to another, much older question. Why do some guys go out and do most of the stupid shit they do? To get laid. > Apparently he had quite the thing for cat girls, but being the weirdo that he was he couldnt find that one perfect one. So he made his own. > While reading through the rest of his notes a question comes to mind, if he had finished his task and made the creature holding you captive, why was he out collecting more 'parts' the night he was caught? > The answer soon became clear as you reach the end of his journal. She was a failure. He had tried to make her perfect, not just on the outside but inside too. He had altered her various glands and internal chemistry to ensure that she was in regular heat. He had found a way to condition her mind while her new body healed to serve him as her master. The problem came from the process he used to reanimate her, the solution in the tank and the internal changes had forced her body to grow larger than intended. He had wanted a petite fuck puppet not a thicc one. > The last nail in the coffin was that the conditioning worked too well. He hadn't even tried to have his way with her yet but he had recorded that she was too 'needy'. Taking to her new role too well and with her unintended boost in strength she was just too much for him. As a result he had put her back in the tank to sleep while he set about starting over, which is when he got caught. > None of this helped much, other than to give you a better understanding of just how literally and physically fucked you really were right now. > There was still another file to read on the computer but the screeching of the lab door signalled that you were out of time. > The big patchwork cat woman stood in the doorway. Her fur somehow free of the green gunk of the tank and her figure hugged by a tight red dress. It had been designed for a much smaller physique but she had squeezed into it somehow, it just barely held in her ample breasts, extenuated her wide hips and stopped short of her knees. It looked kind of old with a few holes here and there made by moths at a guess but she wore it with the confidence of a soldier in uniform marching into battle. > Her smile had graduated up to a wicked grin. She spoke with an air of barely contained need. > "I am ready master. Breed me." > That didn't sound like a request... ------------------------------------------- Chapter 6 > Your night had taken a very strange turn. From wandering around town with a pair of bums, bored out of your mind, you had gone to trapped in a spooky old house with a big frankenkitty who apparently wanted you to 'breed' her... > Now, its not like your some prude who's adverse to a little hanky spanky when on offer (would a hungry man turn down a free meal after all?) but this whole situation was pretty messed up. For one thing, according to the notes you had found she was a collection of dead body parts that had been reanimated by a crazy man, wouldn't it technically be necrophilia? Would it still count as she was actually warm and breathing now? > Whatever the truth of the matter, she wasn't content to wait around for you to think on it. Her grin slipped from her face, replaced by a frustrated scowl. > "Why are you waiting? Come!" > With that she grabbed hold and started dragging you back out the door. > Struggling against her tight grip was a futile effort, she didn't have you thrown over her shoulder this time though so that was something... > Pulled all the way back upstairs you almost expected her to take you back to the room where you had tried hiding. Instead she brought you to what must have been the master bedroom. What little relief you felt over not being thrown unceremoniously onto the musty old bed from before soon dried up. There was a much bigger bed in this one, and she had been preparing... > Lit candles were placed at various points around the room, bathing it in a soft flickering light and casting twitching shadows here and there. The bed itself looked moderately clean, if only because she must have pulled the sheet covering it off earlier, little swirls of dust still danced through the air in testament of the epic storm you had thankfully missed. > On the bed itself there seemed to be something scattered across the sheets and some on the floor. As you drew closer you made them out as brown and decayed flower petals. Any flowers in this place would have rotted away years ago so these were the type you would get scented and stored in little bowls to perfume the air. > Despite the attempt at a romantic set up, you realise it all seems off. The placement of the candles, the way the petals had been thrown about rather than scattered carefully... This looked more like someone with little idea of the actual meaning of romance who had followed a checklist. > With unexpected sadness, you twig that this is more of that crazy killer guy's doing. He must have taught her to do this for him in preparation of his 'fun time', as he had not actually gone through with the act though she hadn't been taught any of the meaning behind it. > With a grunt she tossed you through the air and on to the bed, causing you to land on the dry fake petals with a crunch. > "Now?" she asked, seeming somewhat annoyed that you weren't already ravaging her like an animal. > "Wait! Cant we just talk about this first?" you ask desperately. You had no idea if it was possible for a woman to actually rape a man (you had heard the stories) but it felt like you were going to find out. > "Still you talk?" she almost growled at you. > She raised one of her big paws, for a moment you feared she was going to swipe at you with those massive claws. Instead though she surprised you. > The paw went up to her scarred face, covering her cheek and eye, and she sighed. > "Just like old master..." she muttered quietly, the other eye looking down to the floor. Her other paw hung limply at her side. > When she finally looked back up to you, dropping her paw away, you see tears forming under her green eye, but oddly not the blue one. > "Old master made me like this, told me that this is what I am for." she whimpered. "Then he said I was a failure, that I was not perfect like he wanted." She whispered that last part. > "Then he put me away, said he would fix me later. But he never came back... I slept and woke and slept again... for so long..." > She wasn't fully asleep in that tank? Then why didn't she break out before? Maybe there was something in there stopping her from moving, something that deactivated when Phillip messed with the computer... > Despite everything you feel kind of bad now. She had been created to be some sort of messed up sex slave, taught to want to be one even, but then tossed aside and abandoned... You were glad she wasn't forcefully having her way with you though. > As she began crying in earnest, you decide to try and talk a bit to her. There's a chance you might yet get out of this unmolested after all. > "I'm sorry." you begin. "It sounds like you've been through hell down there, locked up like that for so long." > She settled down slightly at the sound of your voice, going from full sobbing to sniffles and whimpers. > "What's your name?" > A few moments of confused staring told you she probably didn't even have one. > "I mean, the man you called 'old master', when he spoke what did he call you?" > She perked up a bit as she remembered something. > "Master called me... Slave! Is that my name?" > This was just getting worse the more you learned about this place. Slave wasn't so much a name as a declaration of ownership, the sick bastard... > "No... that's not a name..." you say sadly. "My name is Anon, that's how people know me by. Is there something here you like? Anything that makes you happy?" It was a long shot but maybe finding something to call her other than 'it' or 'slave' would be a good way of starting a proper dialogue here. > After a while, her brow furrowed in concentration, she picked up one of the fake petals from the bed. > "I like these, they used to smell nice. They don't anymore though..." > Looking a bit closer you see that they had once upon a time been red. The fragrance had worn off with time but there was a very faint whiff of... > "Rose petals..." you mutter. > Ears pricking up, she catches what you said. > "Their called rose? Can I be Rose too?" she asked hopefully. > It was better than the alternative chosen by her creator... > "Ok, Rose it is!" > As she gripped her two odd paws together and started bouncing on her toes in excitement, you began to think you were making progress. Perhaps a little bit more encouragement and she might actually let you go. > Your life as a way of bitchslapping you however if you start getting too ahead of yourself. This was one of those times. > With a speed unnatural to something her size, 'Rose' suddenly jumped forward and pinned you to the bed. She had pushed you from your sitting position backwards and was now straddling you, her full crushing weight stopping any movement bar breathing. > With her big wet nose pressed up against yours, she spoke. > "I need you Anon. I need you inside! No more talk! Breed me!" > Your head spinning, you try and catch up with the quickly moving situation. > "Wait I thought we were talking! I'm not like the old master! You don't have to do this, we can leave here, find you some help! Really!" > Your desperate cries did not move her. Instead she presses herself even closer, her furry cheek rubbing against yours. > "No, not leave, not now." she moans. "You don't understand Anon, I need this. I'm burning for this! Its what I am for! Help me Anon! I need it!" > She had a whacky look in her eyes now. You also feel a warm dampness soaking in through the crotch of your pants. No you haven't pissed yourself, its from her, she's soaked down there! > The realisation comes that your not getting out of here without giving her what she wants, no, needs. The notes said that he had altered her physiology to trigger more instances of heat than a normal anthro. The ones you knew back home got pretty crazy during their 'season' unless they took the right meds. Rose here didn't have any meds, and she had been deliberately dialed up to eleven to boot. > "Uhh R-Rose?" you just about manage to whisper, she was busy rubbing her face along your other cheek. "I'll help you ok? Just let me up first..." > With a lick of her lips, she managed to pull herself off of you. > As you sit up, she stands waiting, the wicked grin from before back on her face. > Why do you keep getting yourself into these situations... -------------------------------------------------- Chapter 7 > Well, this is it. No more running, hiding, talking or even internal monologuing was going to save you now. She had you exactly where she wanted you and there was no way out. Your dick was hers for the taking. > As you sit on the bed, once more trying to work out how the hell you got here, Rose started to remove her dress. Or at least, she was trying to. > The tight red dress had barely managed to contain her as it was, now it was time to take it off there didn't seem to be enough give to wriggle back out again. > First she tried pulling at the part up above her bust. There was no joy however as it refused to budge. Then she tried tugging at the bottom, hoping to pull it down and step out perhaps. Still no joy. > In the end she took a shortcut. Extending a large claw from her paw, she started to pull down at the dress from her cleavage. The razor sharp protrusion easily cutting through the thin material. > You watched in awe despite yourself as she slowly and sensually worked her way down. Her furry breasts sprung free as the material gave way around them, the whole thing falling away as she reached the bottom. > Considering you had already seen her unclothed down in the lab earlier there was nothing much new to take in. With her little display just now however and the way the candle light seemed to dance off her naked form... you could feel yourself becoming aroused. > Even as she approached, her claws ready to tear at your clothes next, you started pulling at your shirt. You didn't want to get trapped here butt naked with all your stuff torn to shreds. > As she waited impatiently, your mind and body seemed to compete with itself. On one hand, you still felt trapped, not in control, forced into something against your will. Your body however was very much getting with the programme. The sight of her naked body waiting so impatiently for you, had brought your member to attention. The room had also started to fill with the subtle but intoxicating smell of her arousal, turning you from erect to god damned diamonds. > Finally your doubts were overpowered. Yes this whole thing was fucked, yes you technically didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but what was up to you right now was this - do you just lay back, think of England, and let her have her way with you like piece of beta meat? Or do you try take control and at least give as good as you got? If you were going to spend the foreseeable future in a pelvic plaster cast then you might as well go all in... > With your pants sent flying safely out of clawing range, your manhood stood free. Her mismatched eyes immediately locked on to it, focusing with the intensity of a cat stalking its prey. > You just had enough time to get to your knees before she was back on you, leaping on to the groaning bed and pulling you in to a needy kiss. > You had done your fair share of experimenting, being a self professed man of the world. Yet you had never kissed an anthro cat before, taken aback by the feel of her rough tongue pushing against yours. You had decided not to be a spectator here though, so you pushed back, eliciting a throaty moan from Rose. The strange taste of her mouth and the alien feel of her pointed fangs somehow getting you off even more. > Breaking free, she looks you in the eyes and takes hold of your face with her paws. > "No games, no more waiting, I need you. Now!" > She tried to push you down on to the bed, but you resisted. It had occurred to you that letting her climb on top and ride you was a sure way to a broken dick, you had to take the initiative here... > "No." you whisper softly. "Turn around and get on your hands and knees, then I'll give you what you want. No games." > She bit her lip and nodded, letting go of you she turned to face the foot of the bed and got into position, presenting you with her ample rump. > It was an odd sight, one ass cheek shining almost silver in the candle light with dark spots while the other was the light colouring of a lioness, broken by a line of stitches where the leg and thighs had been attached to the rest. Her long puffy tail rose up into the air as she waited for you, her dripping wet pussy and pert asshole on shameless display. > Had this been the end of a date with a fine girl you wanted to impress then some foreplay would have been in order. Rose however was starting to tremble with anticipation, with need. If you didn't get straight to the main event, and sharpish, then you didn't know what she might do... > Grabbing hold of a hip with each hand, you line up your now achingly hard dick with her opening, and give her what she wants. > Despite her size and the already plentiful lubrication provided, its a surprisingly tight fit. Her oven hot wetness seemed to clamp down as you pushed your way in through her folds. With every inch you advanced, her whole body shuddered. As you finally bury yourself up to the hilt, she moans deeply. Apparently enjoying the feel of you so far within her. > "Yyeesssss Anonnn..." she manages to hiss. "More! More!!" > Time to get this party started then. > As you begin to pull back out you cant help but give a moan of your own. Her insides seem to close in around you as you withdraw, almost like she doesn't want you to leave... You've never felt anything quite like this before... > With some effort you manage to pull back until only the tip remains within, then you buck your hips and hit back home. She moans again, even louder than before. > Picking up the pace, you get into rhythm. With each thrust you see her claws dig into the mattress and she begins to push back to meet you. > As your movements both become more frenzied you change position slightly, noticing which spots seem to cause the biggest reaction and moving to reach them better. Her long tail is now up and over your shoulder as you work, the tip curling down towards your back as she bucks and moans. > Its not too long before her moans become louder and more frequent as you start really pounding at her sweet spots. Your knees begin to go numb and your lower back aches with the effort but you don't let up, intent on giving her everything. > Her inner walls feel like their trying to milk you now as you pound her relentlessly. Her groans turning to screams as she approaches her limits. > With your own climax fast approaching, you feel her clamp down on you again and her back arches. Her screams hitting new heights as you tip her over the edge, even as you prepare to let yourself go you feel her hot juices running down your leg. > With a roar of your own you finally let go and paint her insides with your seed, no longer able to contain yourself. > Spent, you both collapse sideways onto the bed together. ------------------------------------------ > Your panting and slick with sweat. What had just happened was quite possibly one of the best fucks of your life so far. It had been basic, frenzied and over all too quickly, but in that time she had needed you more than air itself, with each thrust you could feel her crave more. It was... intoxicating. > As for Rose, she still had her scar crossed back to you, panting heavily like you but not making any other sound or movement. > After you manage to catch your breath, you decide to try see if she's ok. > "Rose?" you whisper. "Are you ok?" > She doesn't answer. Her breathing has slowed down, but she still has her back to you. > "Rose?" you ask again, getting worried now. Perhaps this had been a bad idea after all... > The next sound she makes... is a sniffle? Is she crying? Did you go too far or are you just that bad in bed..? > Before you can question her further she starts to speak. Slowly at first, between sniffles. > "You did it Anon." (sniffle). "You gave me what I wanted, you gave me what I needed, what I was made to do." > She paused, still not turning. A few more sniffles and she continued. > "Now its done though, I don't know what to do. My master taught me to prepare for him, to want and need, but he didn't tell me what comes next. Do... do we just do it again? Or do you go now and put me away like he did to wait for another master?" > It looks like she has run out of script. She had been taught everything she needed to know about tending to her master but nothing more. She literally didn't know what to do with herself. > You suddenly don't feel much like a captive anymore. She's just as much a prisoner of this place as you, more so actually. She is trapped not so much by locked doors but by her own body, of what her master put in her head. You gave her what she needed for the short term, but she needed so much more than this... > Not knowing what else to do, you reach over and try pull her into a hug. No easy task considering she's bigger than you, but you manage somehow. > "What are you doing?" she asks, surprised and stiffening up. > "You look like you could use a hug." > It occurs to you that a hug wasn't something her creator had programmed her with. He had wanted something to see to his needs, not a companion. The prospect of a simple hug was about as alien to her as this whole messed up situation is to you. > It took a bit of time, but eventually she began to relax, almost melting into your arms. > Your not sure how long you stayed like that, holding her in the flickering glow of the candlelight, when her sniffling finally stopped however, it was replaced by a deep rumbling purr. > Your sure you read somewhere that big cats don't purr like the smaller ones do, but with all the changes that had been made to her by that bastard creator of hers, you wouldn't be surprised if she developed laser vision at this point. > Eventually she stopped, turning over in your arms and staring into your eyes. She had stopped crying, but she had a look of sadness to her that damn near broke your heart. > "Its ok Anon." she whispered, her nose less than an inch from yours. "You can leave now if you want. You gave me what I needed, I wont keep you here any longer." > You notice her eyes are looking more focused than before, was it that her need had been so great that she couldn't think straight before? Was it in this small window of 'afterglow' that her artificially heightened hormones had died down enough for the actual Rose to come out? > As eager as you were to get out of this crazy place before she started throwing you around again, you couldn't bring yourself to just up and leave her like this. Maybe you had a touch of that Stockholm syndrome going around... > "If I leave, what will happen to you?" > She thought for a second, breaking her gaze with yours in the process. > "I don't know." she responded sadly. "The burning, the need is gone, for now at least, but I don't know what else there is..." > You tried to think about what would happen if you just left and told the authorities. The police would want to know about this place, the body parts downstairs in the jars, as gruesome as they were, would possibly bring closure to the families of Fitzroy's victims. What about Rose though? What would happen to her? Despite her rough treatment of you at the start it wasn't her fault she was this way. How would the world react to her, to what she was? Would she have any rights considering she was created this way? What would the families of the various people she had been built from think? Would they understand or would they react in horror? Seeing pieces of their loved ones stitched together like this? What would they do about it? > The more questions that arose, the worse you began to feel. If you just left her here without telling anyone, how long until her 'need' caused her to break out and go looking for company? What would happen to her then? > Loosening your grip, you gently move your hand to her face, and start wiping away the tears building there again. > "Ive got an idea..." you begin. ----------------------------------------------- Epilogue > Despite their initial cowardice, Phillip and Fred hadn't thrown Anon completely to the wolves. After running away they had actually retreated back to the racoon's house to hide, get a little high, and come up with a plan. They hadn't seen what was in the basement of that old house but they knew it was bad. > After bravely deciding against a rescue attempt they called the cops. Not the best plan. It was Halloween night and they were already inundated with prank calls from rowdy teens reporting sightings of monsters and ghouls so one more was ignored. > When they did finally convince someone to come check the house out it was noon the next day. When they entered the house they found... no one. > The next few days saw a flurry of activity as the police managed to work out who the lab belonged to. The freezer next to the tank was broken open and revealed the body parts of several more missing girls. Eventually the bodies of all missing women were identified and returned to their families for burial, minus a specific selection of parts that were nowhere to be seen. > There was no sign of the missing Anon either. A search of the house found signs of a struggle and strange mismatching paw prints through the dust but no clue as to where he had gone. A statewide missing persons bulletin was put out but short of a few possible sightings near the state line, he was never seen in that town again. > Phillip and Fred told anyone that would listen about the strange creature in the basement and how it must have murdered and eaten their 'best friend'. Nobody believed them. They did try to be more proactive... Building a little stand outside the house and selling 'I survived the murder house' t-shirts with their picture on, with a couple of 'have you seen this Anon?' Right at the back. They were soon shut down for selling crap on the sidewalk without a permit. > As for Anon? His family never found out what happened to him, no word ever found its way back. A long way away however, rumor spread of a young man who had taken up residence in a cabin seemingly by himself. Working hard each day over at the local mill where the owners had taken pity and given him a job. He kept much to himself, returning home alone each evening, only ever stopping in town to buy a large amount of food and supplies (more than one lone man should need for himself) and oddly enough, a standing order of anthro estus medication from the local pharmacy too. > He was a tidy enough kinda guy, but there were those who swore that at night, if you ventured too close to his little cabin, you could hear strange moans and even screams coming from within, shaking the very walls with their intensity... Fin~