Taken: In The White Room, With Black Curtains.
Hello and welcome to the first completed story that I have written for Yiff-Star. Now while this chapter sadly does not contain yiff, it does contain plot and set up for future chapters as well as a vivid description of my fursona, naked. Rawr!
"Abandon all hope, ye who enter..."
"Past the vaulted door where unspeakable things occur..."
Taken:
In The White Room, With Black Curtains.
Conor Summanus awakens after a night of camping and partying with his four closest friends, to find it painfully obvious that all is no longer well in the world that he knew.
...darkness slowly fades from his minds eye as a sharp bolt of pain shoots up from the base of his spine. The sensation was odd, too odd. The signals were different; his brain wasn't sure how to react. It hiccupped a bit at this while trying to make sense of the incoming signals. This had apparently been enough to sound warning bells, effectively kick starting the cognitive process. His brain shuddered and groaned to life, creaking and rattling as a train of thought chugged away from the Union Station of his mind. Groaning in pain Conor rolls onto his right side off his back and the pain begins to subside. Replaced instead by a dull ache covering his whole body like a heavy quilt.
"Rrrrr... "
He moaned in pain, "Wha..." The fog of darkness was still heavily clouding his vision and thoughts. "Wher...am...ow..."
His brain stumbled around in thought as his brain cells began to organize the anarchy of thoughts in his mind. Still moaning softly out of mild agony, his brain, now becoming organized enough to begin the arduous task of taking stock of the situation, was calling for a status report. But something was amiss. Actually, many things were amiss, awry, or just plain fundamentally wrong with the signals his brain was receiving as it sifted though the stacks of electric impulses his nerves endings were sending. This was not helping at all as his consciousness struggled to duck, bob, and weave to the forefront of his mind amongst a plethora of various algorithms running ovals in his head trying to regain organized thought. Just then his mental self looked up and saw what it had been looking for. Click...
"Arrrh..."
Groaning again as he began trying to move one of his arms, emphasis on tried... "Ohh, fuck me that was a bad idea." He was beginning to get a little worried now. "What the hell is going on? Damn it, everything fucking hurts, especially my back. Oh damn, it feels like I've been in a fight with a two-by-four. My lower back is on fire... and the area, um...sorta... below that...feels..."
Squeal... wheels ground into rail as his train of thought jams on the brakes, trying in vain to slow down as his train of though slams into the proverbial car that was the odd string of sensations that his brain had not received before a few moments ago from somewhere at and below his lower back area. His mind raced along now, fumbling and flipping though all of the files in the database of his memory searching frantically for what to do with these new signals.
"BELOW my lower back. WHAT! That makes no fucking sense at all." His mind was racing... but alas, it was not in gear. "How can I have feeling below my back that is not my ass!" It then slowly dawned on him, as his brain was able to better filter the incoming transmissions from his spine. He was lying on top of something. Something warm... and... hairy? No... not hairy... it's more... furry feeling actually. "Huh, I must not have been sober enough to arrange my sleeping bag and shit before passing out last night. Funny...I didn't think that we even had enough beer with us for me to get that drunk."
As he pondered that thought for a moment he began to take stock of the other feelings of pain in his body. In addition to his uh... 'back' pain, his lower legs and feet also hurt him something fierce. And his head, oh man did his head fucking hurt. His ears ached and were ringing slightly, but there was no other sound to be heard. He twitched his nose a bit, without thinking about it. Then he smelled something. Or more specifically somewhere and something... no wait, things. The inside of his tent smelled odd, kind of clean and sterile, a little too sterile, almost like... a doctors office, or a... a...
"Hospital...A HOSPITAL! Oh holy mother fucking shit taco. Shit, what happened? Shit shit shit! Oh damn this is bad, am I going to be okay? What happened last night? What did we DO? Shit, where is Orpheus... and Reynard... and Crevan? Are they here too? Are they okay? What the hell?"
His brain was now almost fully online. Having just regained communication with his eyes Conor's brain decided it needed input from more than on of his senses to assess the situation. His eyes cracked open to a slit...
"Oh, fuck me running, god damn, son of a bitch, shit, fuck that hurts, murrrrahhhh." He roared in pain as the lights plowed down into his eyes, breaking like a storm surge across his retinas. He rocked a little side to side in pain finally coming to rest on his back and was reminded again painfully about his lower... back? Rolling once again onto his side, he noticed that everything still felt weird.
"Damn it! Why does everything feel wrong?" The dull ache that blanketed his body had begun to subside and he decided to try and move something again. Something simple, something easy. Slowly he bent his left arm at the elbow and cautiously reached up to rub his left ear. As his hand reached the side of his head his brain began to panic, from memory his fingers should have been close enough to fe... His brain hiccupped again and his fingers made contact with the side of his head. The sensation was wrong, no ear. Right where his ear ought to have been was what felt like hair... sort of. No, this feels more like... fur.
"What...the...hell?!" He thought, slowly moving his hand farther up the side of his head groping blindly for his ear until at last he found it. His thumb, forefinger, and middle finger slowly closed, gently grasping his ear between his thumb and fingers. Something was wrong, very wrong. More fur. Wrong shape.
"On... my...EAR?! Fur on my..." His hand frantically caressed every square millimeter of his ear. "...ear? Ok, ok...oh man." Taking several, slow... deep... breaths he tried to calm himself down. It was not working very well. Rolling over onto his belly he brought his forearms up to block the cascade of light falling from the ceiling so he could try opening his eyes again. While doing so his left arm brushed his nose. With that his breath caught in his throat and he slowly pulled his nose up from his arm. With speed usually reserved for the pace of televised professional golf he began to open his eyes. The light was still bright as the sun. Cringing and squinting the light began to soften as his pupils narrowed at last. A first all he could make out was the shadowy outline of his arm. After a moment the light had softened enough for him to begin making out color and definition.
"Oh... "
Was all that he was able to squeak out as he gazed down blankly at his arms and hands. His brain began to comprehend this very compelling bit of evidence.
"I... I..."
His brain struggling to clear the hurdles.
"I... have... fur?"
He asked aloud in shocked confusion.
"And... paws?
Looking down at his arms he saw that they were now covered with medium length orange fur with black stripes arcing through it. Down near his wrist the fur shortened and faded to white when it met the palm of his...hand... "No, hand would not be the right, that looks more like a paw to me." It then suddenly occurred to him as he lie there, staring at his orange and black stripe-ed arms and paws. Having already felt his ears and were they relocated to. All of this data coupled together in his brain. When combined with some information retrieved from a file deep within his memory bank formed the first tendrils of thought beginning to explain the feeling in is lower back. And then in a sudden eureka moment he sprang up, scrambling to his feet as best he could.
He stood there for a moment, the pain that was present before had evaporated now and had been replaced by a feeling of energy that he had not felt before. Staring and the white wall in front of him he brought his left arm up into view and extended it out away from his face and turned it over examining it with a jeweler's care. His mind was at a standstill as all thought stopped. It took all of his brainpower to handle and process the vast streaming rivers of information that his eyes were taking in. Somewhere deep in his brain a low level clerk was placing an order for more filing cabinets. What was once the palm of his hand is now covered with a thick black callous like pad with several creases and wrinkles running across it. There are also three of the same type of pads on each of his fingers and 2 on his thumb. Slowly he clenched his paw into a fist then extended his fingers to stretch them out a bit. In doing so he discovered something very interesting. He had Claws.
Flinching in surprise at seeing them, his claws retracted back into slits on the tips of his fingers and thumb. With both paws now in front of him, palm up, he relaxed and found that if he didn't think about it too hard and just let it happen, if by instinct, it was very easy to extend his new claws. "Oh, hot shit! I've got claws! That means, that... I... am...I look...like a... I'm a damn tiger. Wait a minute though, tigers don't stand on two... legs. Oh fuck yeah!" His brain did a little happy dance upon piecing it all together while he looked down his muscular legs towards his feet in disbelief.
"I'm a... furry."
He said aloud to himself.
Looking down he saw that he was indeed not just an ordinary tiger, but also an anthropomorphic tiger at that. His legs were now digit grade, the distance between what had been his heel and his toes increased greatly and he found himself standing on what had been his toes when he noticed, himself, and the rest of his new body. The orange and black stripe-ed pattern continued down his back and legs, but where it met his chest and belly the fur lengthened and faded into a creamy white color that carried on down his front to his crotch and up around to the base of his new tail which was ringed in orange and black. The very tip of which was also creamy white. Upon further inspection of his equipment he found that he now had a somewhat large sheath below his navel and a pair of large testicles hanging in a fuzzy sac held close to his body below that. A grin tugged at the right corner of his mouth as his tail curled loosely around the lower portion of his right leg as he contemplated something.
For Conor it was a dream come true. He could hardly believe it. And yet there he stood tail and all, a twenty year old, large framed, broad shouldered, six foot two inch tall, two hundred and thirty pound anthropomorphic tiger. All those long nights spent dreaming of the 'what if scenarios'. He would have been able to enjoy this a bit more if it had not been for the situation that he found himself in. That and as the amazing shock of waking up to find that he was now embodiment his fantasies was wearing off, he now began remembering the questions he had been asking his brain earlier while he was coming to. His location, and the location the safety of his friends.
With that thought Conor whirled around now facing away from the wall. He looked out across the white room in a mixture of shock, horror, fear and uncertainty. The entire room was white. Floor, walls, ceiling, all of it white with the ceiling containing several evenly spaced squares shining a cascade of light down into the room which must have been a good fifteen feet wide by thirty long. But it was not the size of, nor the decoration of the room that caused these feelings, but what the room contained in addition to himself.
What he saw could potentially answer many of the questions that his brain had posed to him. There were three other creatures in the room with him. There, on the floor several feet in front of him lay the body of a most likely unconscious anthropomorphic wolf with jet-black fur all over and what Conor thought was a rather lithe build for a wolf. Beyond that lay what appeared to be a pair of smaller, also unconscious anthropomorphic foxes. The first was reddish orange all over, with black 'socks and gloves', as well as black ear tips and tail tip. That was all nicely contrasted by the white running from his lower jaw down his belly and between his legs around to the base of his tail. He was a lot smaller than either Conor or the wolf and looked very sly and slim, yet muscular. Lastly on the far end of the room curled up in the corner next to a messy pile of clothing was an arctic fox eerily similar in looks and build to the red fox but just a bit younger and smaller looking. He was white all over with the same black 'socks and gloves' and ear tips as the larger fox but what caught Conor's eye was the fiery orange-red fur on the tip of his tail.
Standing there for a moment taking it all in. The gears spun in his brain for a bit, mulling over all of the current information, before adding it to the data that he already had. While thinking Conor began to make connections and correlations. Three missing friends, three strange anthropomorphic creatures laying unconsciously in the room besides him. Looking down at the black wolf nearby and pondering this for a while, and then across to the pair for different colored but strikingly similarly shaped foxes. His eyes drifted then, from the foxes, until it fell upon the messy pile of clothes next to the fox in the corner. Conor stood there staring at the clothes. As he did so he identified a pair of dark grey cargo pants with a black leather belt and his favorite black sleeveless Pantera shirt. Suddenly it dawned on him that either himself or one of his friends the night before had worn all of the clothing in that pile.
As Conor looked down once again to the black wolf he had an epiphany. His missing friends, one of whom was Orpheus Ragnar also twenty years old and about one hundred and ninety pounds standing six feet, four inches tall, and was one of Conor's best friends. Then there were the half brothers Ruaidri, Crevan and Reynard. They looked very similar to each other, aside from their difference in age and height. Crevan was also twenty years old was fairly thin and a few inches shorted that Conor. Reynard had just turned sixteen and had the same build as his older half brother but was shorter yet. Their father had divorced his first wife when Crevan was only three. He remarried a year later to Reynard's mother. Two years ago though, their father and Reynard's mother separated for reasons unknown to anyone save for Crevan, Reynard, their father, and Reynard's mother. From this Conor drew his connection to the three anthropomorphic beings on the floor. He was still looking and the black wolf when he at last put it all together.
"Orpheus..."
He muttered in realization as he lifted his eyes to the pair of foxes.
"Crevan..."
Speaking a little louder now he looked to the curled up arctic fox in the corner.
"and Reynard"
As he spoke those last words it looked as if Reynard had stirred a little.
Looking closer, it appeared that he was now shaking slightly. "He's alive! And from the looks of things he's awake." Conor walked in a slight crouch, stealthily moving around the wolf and fox, then across the room toward the corner where the shivering arctic fox still lay. As he got closer Conor could have sworn that he heard a soft whimper. Closing within a few feet of his goal, Conor crouched down to get a better look and to see if the little guy was alright.
So ends the first chapter of what will hopefully be more to come.
I stayed up all night thrashing on this story to get it done.
I hope you all like it.
Please leave your criticism in the form of a comment below.
If I fucked up, I want to know. I you have suggestions, feel free.
Let me know what you think.
Until next time, peace out.
-Hobbes