FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"¿Por qué estamos aquí? Estoy perdiendo negocios cada día," A man in loose-fitting jeans, a flannel shirt, with a bandana on his head yelled angrily, throwing his hands up in the air with every word.

The procession was taking place in an old warehouse that had once been used to store auto parts from the port before continuing journey into the United States. That's what it was officially, and every once in a while, that was what it was used for, but normally it was a front for drugs by the local cartel. Today it was a meeting place, and all of the major cartel leaders were in attendance, from commanders that trafficked all the way to Alaska to Columbian drug lords that strangled Central America. It was the only gathering of so many leaders to have ever occurred.

"In English please," An individual in an expensive suit, sitting in a not-so-expensive folding chair said, flicking his ring-covered fingers in the air at his Hispanic counterpart. "So we can all understand."

"Learn it then. Maybe you'll understand then," The man said with a spit and the American's bodyguards, two of them and the size of NFL lineman stepped forward, ready to teach some respect, but their boss held up a hand to stop them.

"When I'm this rich, I don't have to." He chuckled and kicked up his feet on a nearby desk that had been overturned when the place was expeditiously turned from a crack house to a meeting room. "Now speak your part in English, or I'm leaving."

"No one is leaving early." An older gentleman, the oldest of everyone there, said. All conversation died down as he spoke. He got up, leaning on his cane to do so and waved away help from his own bodyguard. Loose furs were draped over him, more for warmth than fashion, even in the San Diego heat and he had an air tank behind him, connected to him by an array of tubes. "We've all come here for a reason and we're going to stay until that matter is resolved." He jabbed his stick at the ground.

"I'm sorry." The American sat back up. "I didn't know this was so important." He bowed his head respectfully, hoping that he had not earned disfavor. It would ruin his business and then the others would pick apart his fortune like vultures. They were always waiting for someone to fall from grace, always ready to jump at the weakest of the pack.

"Of course it is important you imbecile." He snorted and then fell into a coughing fit. His own guard, a leaner and younger man quickly reached out with a glass of water. The old man took it with a thanks and only when he was done coughing did he continue. "We're here because the treaty is coming to an end. In fact, me being here ends it, but I've decided that this is that important."

"What can be so important as to call all of us away from out homes and family?" Another asked, a cartel leader from Panama. "Excuse me if I sound rude, but you aren't in charge anymore."

"You all came running at my behest." The old man smiled. "I may not be in charge officially, but my words carry weight. Weight enough that I know you all came here more out of fear than respect."

The Panama leader looked away. It was true. They all knew what the old man was capable of. He had given them all their power, their money, everything they had was because of him and he could easily take it away. They had seen it before and they didn't wish to see it again.

"Now are you all going to keep interrupting this old man until he falls over from old age, or can I continue?" He gave everyone a stern look. Most didn't meet his gaze. Instead, they pretended to look at something on the wall or just on the ground, between their feet.

The old man liked being the one on top, the Alpha. Despite his advanced age, he still knew that he still had it in him to get the job done, but he wasn't here to intimidate them. There were things that even someone like him feared and it was time they all knew of the coming threat.

"All done?" He asked one more time and when no one said a thing, he nodded. "Good because I need you all to listen carefully. As some of you know, a deal was made with a very powerful group in Europe to take out someone that threatened all of us. Not many details are known to you all, but it ended with me stepping down as head of the cartels. I gave up my old life for this and I do believe it was worth it."

It was news to a lot of them. Only the Columbian leader and his men knew all of the details. Others had a few ideas and the rest had been kept in the dark. For the most part, it was believed that the old man stepped down due to health reasons. He was very old now, relying on medications and barely able to move on his own.

Those who had questions kept them to themselves. Interrupting him now would be suicide now that he made it clear that he didn't want to be interrupted.

"This deal has kept these acquaintances off of all of our backs while they dealt with their own problems and for the past ten years, that has worked out quite fine." He sat back down now that he no longer had to demand their attention. For all of their cockiness and money fueled pride, they did know when to shut up and listen. "I'm afraid that by bringing you all here, I've broken that deal, but don't look so alarmed. It is all for a good reason." He got quiet all of the sudden, a dark cloud forming over him.

For the longest moment, he didn't say anything. He stared at nothing at all.

They waited silently for him to say something and then surprised them all when he did speak again.

"I'm going to be honest with all of you." He crossed his hands on his lap. They were shaking despite it being over eighty degrees in the building. Everyone else was sweating beads. The old man was too, but he felt cold down to the core. "I'm scared of what I've discovered."

Each person in the room was silent. Thier breathing was the loudest thing to be heard. The old man had never been scared before. Concerned? Yes, but genuine fear seemed impossible for someone that had run an empire built on drugs and murder.

"I did what any old man with money did in retirement. I traveled the world and it was during these travels, I started hearing rumors. At first, I disregarded what I heard as prophetic and unrealistic, but as time went on and I looked into this more and more, I was chilled to learn a truth." The old man had to stop to catch his breath. He cursed his old body. He had been just barely too old to try newer treatments.

"What..." The Columbian leader, the old man's oldest and most trusted lieutenant and the only one with the capability to understand the true scope of what he said, dared to speak. "What did you find?"

"It would almost be a mercy not to tell you, but as much as you bicker and fight like children, you are my children. A parent must not hide the truth from their children if they truly love them." He sighed, his breath wavering. "I discovered Ragnarok."

"Ragna-who?" The American asked. "The Norse legend?"

"Not exactly," The old man cleared his throat. "But, the consequences are the same nonetheless."

"Why tell us first?" The Columbian leader asked. "Why not tell our mutual benefactors first." He meant the werewolves and the Coalition, the reorganized Inquisition. Those who had no idea what he was talking about exchanged looks, but remained silent.

"Like I said, I felt it important to tell you all first. Our other friends will know shortly once we're done here." He had already made plans to fly out to Berlin immediately after this meeting. He had also taken measures to protect his family, more so than the measures he had taken to protect himself. He was an old man with not much time left on the Earth, but his son was still young. He had a life, even if that life had nothing do to with dear ol' daddy, but it was a life worth protecting.

As much as the old man's son believed that his early life had been ruined by his father's secrets and dealings, it had been done to protect him. The world was much more treacherous and vile than anyone could have ever imagined. Werewolves, secret organizations that had the same murderous intentions as the Nazis and now, something worse had crept out of the woodwork, something old and terrible which had been waiting to be awakened. How the old man wished he hadn't seen it. Ignorance would have been bliss, until Ragnorak did come.

He had been in Sweden of all places, part of a European tour he had always wanted to do. Start in England, down to France and sweep around Spain and into the Mediterranean, up north through Eastern Europe and into Sweden before finishing in Denmark after crossing through Germany. It wasn't a complete tour, but there would have been time for that later. The old man had plenty of money in a dozen bank accounts across the world and he was still receiving a healthy allowance that each of his lieutenants owed him. Now the old man wished he hadn't squandered his funds on fancy excursions. He needed weapons. He needed an army.

The details were somewhat hazy. He had gone into shock upon discovery the truth, but he knew that the end of the world was at hand if it wasn't stopped and he wasn't sure if the world had it in it to stop what was coming. The werewolves wouldn't see it. The Coalition wouldn't be able to muster their strength fast enough. They had been downsizing for years now, but if asked, many would return. They just needed forewarning.

"All drug trafficking is going to stop," The old man said without any remorse and knowing that no one would agree with him. This was the time he was going to test their loyalty because there was only so much that reputation could do. In the end, that was what mattered.

"You can't be serious," The American chuckled. "I've never taken you for a joker, but man..." He pulled a cigar out of his coat pocket and bit off the end before sticking it into the side of his mouth. "Had us all going and then BAMB." His arms shot out and his chair nearly tipped backward. "Whew, good one."

The others were silent and looked nervous, waiting to see how the old man would react to being so openly mocked. The old man never joked about business.

"Yes," The old man joined in the laugh. "A good one indeed." He paused and looked at the American's guards. "Only if it was really a joke."

One of the guards pulled a cord out and reached forward, wrapping it around their previous employer's neck and pulling it tightly.

The American's eyes bulged out and his laugh croaked out as his body was pulled off the chair and up against his bodyguard's chest, his legs weren't even touching the ground anymore. His hands were desperately grasping at his neck. He croaked a few more times, trying to look for help from anyone, but they all sat in silence. The only thing that he could hear was his slowing heartbeat in his ears and the strange sounds coming from his mouth that sounded distant.

"All drug trafficking will stop," The old man repeated, speaking just high enough to be heard over the dying man. "Cut out all of the chaff, the dealers, the traffickers, anyone that can't fight." If anyone else was going to defy him, it was going to be now, before he consolidated his power. He was putting a lot on the line.

"Ex-excuse me sir?" A new face, someone that the old man didn't recognize and yet he still felt that he knew him, spoke up. "Fight?"

It should have been a red light, but in his flustered states, the new face slipped by.

"War's coming." The old man finally said it. "Not from other gangs or the government, but from a new threat. I can't explain it fully, but it's coming."

"It's already arrived." The new face, older, but not overly aged with wisps of gray on his trimmed beard and sideburns. His face was cold and calculating, staring into the old man, rather than at him. "I was hoping that you would forget everything with the amount of silver I put in your head. Couldn't kill you outright. Too many would notice. But, I suppose that it's too late with you going off and about to spill the beans to everyone." He stood up and began to walk towards the old man. A guard, the same one who had just finished off his old boss, stepped to intervene, but he quickly found his neck broken by a swift, but casual toss of the New Face's wrist.

The assembly got up in a collective gasp. Guns were drawn, all aiming at the New Face. They would have opened fire immediately if the man hadn't begun to change.

Without stopping, the man's form changed. His body grew and morphed. His fingers elongated along with his arms. HIs knees shifted more forward as his ankles stretched backward. The nose, thick and somewhat flat, grew out, elongating, dragging the rest of the mouth of it as the skin turned black and wet. Teeth grew out, falling and clattering onto the ground only to be replaced by new, sharper teeth.

"Oh dear..." Someone said and another vomited. The sound of cracking bones echoed across the room the entire time, followed by ripping clothes until the change was complete.

The old man stared. He had seen werewolves before, but never like this. It was something between a man and a wolf. It stood on two legs, hunching over with a thin, sickly waist and a barrel-like chest. It stood nearly eight feet tall and its thin arms dangled down to its knees, ending in long fingers tipped with sharp claws.

"Shoot it!" Some else yelled and fired. The bullet hit the beast squarely in the side of the head. No one else fired and the beast stood still silently. It's eyes glazed over until there was a clattering. The bullet dropped out of its head and fell to the floor, a little bit of bone, blood, and fur stuck in its crumpled metal body.

"No-" It began to speak and then the room erupted in gunfire.

The old man had to cover his ears and step back and away. The monster's body jerked from side to side, blood flying off of it as hundreds of rounds of ammunition were emptied into its body.

Smoke filled the air and the old man blinked away the stinging tears and had to cover his nose.

Sounds of gunfire were replaced with clicking and then clinking as bullets fell to the ground out of the monster's riddles body that looked liked it had been dropped into a tenderizer multiple times.

"Not good enough, Mr. Caughey." It smiled a wicked smile; it's mouth filled with too many teeth.

"Please forgive me." Caughey spoke out loud. "Forgive me, Robert. I've been a horrible father." He closed his eyes and even as his men reloaded and continued to fire, he knew that there was no hope. He had been too late, leading the beast right to his door.

"Only the gods can forgive." The old man heard through the hellish fire. "And the god's are all dead."