Demise 1

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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Demise

The Scorpion of Siberia. Everyone in the business knew that he was one to be feared, a black and white husky who was, most certainly, not of the cute and cuddly kind. Flecks of grey and white streaked the dark parts of his fur but the patterns seemed to change every time he made at least a semi-public appearance as if he was trying to keep even those defining markings mysterious and, ultimately, impossible to identify. Of course, if he was ever caught for his crimes, there would be other ways to identify him and ways, surely, to wash any colouring dye or tattooing ink from his coat, but Scorpio was too cunning to be caught.

At least, so far. That was why the Shepsisters had been called to the French ski resort boasting the toughest and darkest runs in the country when they should really have been celebrating the holidays. They were the only ones who had ever, at least in the past, come close to capturing Scorpio, a husky who had, somehow, managed to slip through their grasp when they'd thought they well enough had him cornered down under in that jaunt to Australia. It had not been him or even one of his henchfurs that had even gotten close to risking their lives on that particular (failed) mission but the native fauna that had taken a particular dislike to the flesh on Dora's calf. It was a scar she would carry with her forever and a reminder of just what it meant to let him get away.

Well, that would not happen again: she'd make sure of it.

They lay flat out on the snow behind an outcrop of dark rocks protruding from the whiteness like an island in the ocean, their pale gear helping them blend in more with the scattering of rock and snow. Although it was perfect weather for those so inclined to the winter sports (hell, even Dora was itching to get onto some black runs to really feel the wind ripping through her fur at full pelt), it was not all that appropriate for the handling of weapons or even just keeping one's body temperature up when lying in wait, patiently freezing their tails off.

"You know Yote wouldn't like this," Danica said, scanning the slopes with her binoculars, lips pursed and pressed in close together as if she was trying to keep something behind her back teeth. "I don't know why you just couldn't tell him. We all know what we do. You're engaged. It's getting a bit ridiculous, all this secrecy."

Dora shrugged and pushed her blonde hair back from her eyes. Her sharply cut fringe had grown a little long, which wasn't ideal for her line of work when she needed to have full command of her sight and a good view of her surroundings at all times. Haircuts, however, were not often something high on her agenda and that girlish crap of clipping it back out of her eyes... She winced at the thought, her mind drifting. Just how would tiny little bobby pins and clips like that even stay in when she was ducking and rolling through a snowdrift? Sometimes she wondered if Yote would be able to deal with her having no hair at all and just her natural fur colour dyed across the top of her head. Although it was not as if he would have any say in that matter at all, she'd seen some in the harder lines of work most certainly pull the look off.

The blonde German Shepherd huffed and shook herself, eyes fixed on the snow, although everything seemed to blur into one white glow after staring off out there for so long. It was a good thing that Danica had better eyes for that sort of thing anyway, leaving Dora to imagine just how she was going to take down The Scorpion himself, wipe that silly smug smirk off his face. Why, he even seemed to have those stupid sunglasses on his face at all times too, although everyone knew that his eyes were blue. It was no secret that he was an ex-KGB officer either, just one who had found a little more to his taste in the freelance world. Only becoming a mercenary and assassin for the wrong side when those such as the Shepsisters were about was probably not the wisest move that he'd ever made.

Not when he worked with the slavers, the true hatred of the Shepsisters above all else. Just thinking of them brought the rise of a snarl to Dora's lips, the black flesh lifting in her anger. It was as if he was trying to actively spite them, grind them down into the dust and remind them of...

No. Dora hardened her heart. No, she would not think of that. That was a time ago and a time that one would do best not to remember, let along consider in the moments before rushing to a dance that she was not entirely sure of. For she would not mourn the death of one who treated the lives of others with such callous disrespect, regardless, of course, of the line of work that she was also in, and would feel more settled in her heart if she could see the very lifeblood of his body splattered out across the snow in a morbid arc.

"Dora?"

Danica raised her eyebrows questioningly as Dora shook herself, lips pressed together.

"What?"

Wisely, Danica chose not to press the matter, being the sister who knew Dora absolutely better than anyone else. She rather liked her head right there where it was, on her shoulders, rather than elsewhere.

"Let's move."

Now, that was a better target to focus on as they jumped onto the snowmobile, a vehicle better designed than any truck for, at least, getting about the lower slopes. As they raced along, muzzles tucked down against the bitter grab of the wind, there were some steeper and rockier sections where they could not go but it did its job well enough, the colours that of the resort so that anyone who happened to catch sight of them would be able to at least assume that was where they worked. To help that matter along some, their name tags would do the trick too, just a little something to make sure that things went as smoothly as possible.

If Yote had known, he would have been one to know that things were not to go as smoothly as possible. But that was the whim and will of one on the outside, hammering on the glass wall between them and yelling out words that, in the crux of the moment where they were ultimately crucial, would never be heard.

Snow flurries whipped up around them, their target ahead. It always seemed that mountainous areas had a multitude of caves and networks that could take a fur everywhere and anywhere, if only they knew where to find them. Even though they were often close to quite reasonable civilisation too and the laughing, jovial resorts of the middle class, they seemed to pass by under watchful eyes, or perhaps the fact of the matter was simply that those who should have been keeping an eye on those matters looked the other way. Why, there was even some speculation as to whether the resorts, in more than one shocking case, were simply a front for organised criminal activity, due to their difficulty to get to and sheer remoteness. In a sense, bar the lack of solid transport links, they truly were a prime location for anything and everything at all on the side of the untoward.

"There!"

Dora's shout didn't need to be heard as Danica flicked one ear back in the affirmative, angling the snowmobile towards the dark, yawning mouth. It looked nondescript, something that adventurous teenagers on their first holiday abroad may have wanted to explore, but they both knew that it harboured something entirely more sinister, the gaping hole promising darkness and seedy tendrils that would creep into their very souls. But the Shepsisters were not ones to back down from such a fight and what was a little darkness when the end goal was to bring down the reign of someone altogether darker and more powerful still?

Dora clenched her jaw and exhaled sharply through her nostrils, the warmth of her body doing little to warm the breath that she was forced to expel from her lungs. It bit on the way in and on the way out too, just like the bite of that snake had. She'd never felt anything like it but she was most certainly left with absolutely no desire at all to repeat that experience in the slightest. She frowned, dismounting the vehicle with a shrewd, worn look on her muzzle that didn't suit her features, as hard as they were.

Or maybe it had been a scorpion, right back then. Her memories of that time were fuzzier than she would have liked and nothing seemed right. Was she unsteady on her paws? Probably the altitude, yes, most likely that. Nothing more. Her stomach most certainly was not churning and neither was she sweating.

Standing before the mouth of the cave, Danica too took a deep breath as if she was striving to steady herself right on the peak of leaping forth.

"Are you..."

And then everything went wrong. Perhaps Dora should have paid a little more attention to her body but the gas seeping into her lungs, a very clever fume that had been planted into the snowmobile to be exhumed, sent her mind wavering just enough for her judgement to be clouded. Snowsuit clad furs leapt from all directions, the mountainside all of a sudden bursting to life. Their camouflage in such a landscape must have been exemplary but there was no time for that as Dora snarled and showed her teeth, ripping the knives from her belt, the only weapons that she had some sense of being able to use with her paws wrapped up in gloves. Damn those gloves! And fuck the cold right he way all the way back to hell where it belonged for screwing up everything that should have been!

Dora howled and threw herself at her nearest attacked, taking him down as he crashed face-first into the snow, blood pouring from his neck. That was not the end of it, however, as she moved on instantly, a deadly killer as she moved like lightning, although still not as swiftly as she would have back when she'd been, well...less inhibited.

Dora's eyes widened, seeing the dart fly through the air even as she hurled her body to her sister's aid, unable to do anything to prevent it. She should have brought Yote along! He could have been their eyes, set back from everything, and made sure that this didn't happen. But there was nothing she could do as the dart sunk into the exposed fur at the back of Danica's neck and she dropped like a stone, the effects of the gas and the dart working their potent chemical magic on her nervous system. She was out cold, cheek pressed into the snow and a trickle of blood oozing from one nostril as her tongue, sickeningly, lolled out over her teeth.

She thought she screamed - Dora was sure of it, but that was in the realm of hindsight when everything looked clear and simple and sharp. Things were not sharp as her sister lay in the snow, a lifeless lump of a body that may or may not have been able to move again; Dora could not have said. All she knew was that the first dart that bit into her own neck like the sting of that scorpion didn't stop her, only slowed her down, taking down one, two and then a third henchfur, everything falling into a dull blur of blood and screaming. Something slashed across the snow and she lunged for the throat of a bear - he had to be a bear at that size - but the dart struck her neck for a second time just in the nick of time. Not for her, of course, but those who sought to subdue her who had already lost some of their number to the drugged and surprised paws of the Shepsisters.

Alas, she was slow to fall unconscious, the world swimming and tilting sickening around her as the sky spun into the snow and everything turned an odd shade of grey. Was the sky always that colour? The German Shepherd still tried to push herself up, limbs aching and throbbing as if she had physically been beaten to a pulp, even as a canine of some sort planted a heavy boot on her back, forcing her back down.

But it was the one that loomed over her, blocking out the sun as he pulled down the scarf from his muzzle, that held her attention even as she tried to growl. Whether or not she growled was another matter as she must have made enough movement to warrant a third dart to shut her eyes, everything growing oh so very heavy and soft, like wallowing through a cloud even as gravity sought to pull her down and down and down.

Smirking on the brink of victory, Scorpio flashed her a grin, the markings on his muzzle dyed into a zigzag pattern. Curious... Dora blinked, yawning and gaping for no reason as icy snow chilled her teeth, chest fluttering as she struggled to simply get enough breath into it. Her body, however, would soon take over as the drugs dragged her from any sense of reality, the very husky that they'd sought to capture standing over the fallen sisters like a hunter with his prey.

"Nighty-night, ladies."

And then everything went black.

*

When Dora and Danica returned to consciousness, the brunette the quickest to blink to consciousness with her skull throbbing, the situation was not what any of them would have wished for. The brunette kept her eyes half-lidded, staring at the floor and the boots across the room from her: a fur who had seated themselves in some kind of metal chair. She couldn't let them know that she was awake yet, however, and scanned the floor without moving a muscle, taking stock of their situation.

Of course, she was bound. That was entirely to be expected but it wasn't even in the sexy, kinky sort of way but the dire fashion that had her heart pounding and throbbing even as she sought to use every last technique in her arsenal to control it. She couldn't let that get the better of her - not when their very lives were clearly on the line.

A room in a cave, rough walls. There was a desk against the far wall and some kind of blinking monitor up by the body of the fur who was in there - a rat of some kind. Not Scorpio. She swallowed her anger, thrusting it all the way down, and instead turned her attention to her sister lying prone beside her.

Dora... Her heart pulled and twisted for her. She looked so vulnerable, so out of it. Danica had rarely even seen her sister asleep in recent years, not since she had taken to shacking up with Yote and all the rest that that had entailed. Dora had used to fall asleep in their living room when watching a film, unable to keep her eyes open in a darkened room. It was just about the only time when she allowed herself to well and truly let her guard down, letting her sister watch over her, without any spoken agreement, and a deep sleep to take her at least until the movie ended. Then she would wake and everything would continue as if nothing at all had changed, the scene between them just the same as ever.

Swallowing her growl, Danica thought about testing her bonds, wrists tied behind her back in a simple bind. Could she tear it loose? But that would risk drawing the attention of the rat in the chair and it all came down to whether or not she could leap up and disable him in time too. Did she trust that she could do that when her body still ached and her head pounded so viciously?

As much as she loathed doing so, watching and waiting would be, by far, the better option, taking stock of her options until the right one presented itself to her. Or she snatched it out of thin air: one of the two, ultimately.

Ah... But one option was just about to present itself to her in the tread of heavy boots - the patented step of a body that wanted everyone to know that they were coming. Scorpio didn't try to hide as he strode into the room and she immediately pretended to be asleep again, her breaths calculated and level even with the little twitches under her eyelids added in too for good measure.

Silence stretched between them, the German Shepherd and the husky refusing to give ground as he sent the rat out of the room and stood quite still, watching and waiting just like she was. Eventually, however, it only benefitted one of them to break the spell and the interlude all for the sake of moving his plot along.

"I know you're awake, Danica."

Oh, how she hated the sound of her name coming from his lips but the gig was clearly up and with a short, quiet bark of laughter that was entirely devoid of any humour whatsoever, she sat up slowly, using the muscles of her core to pull herself up into something that vaguely resembled a sitting position. Her muzzle remained impassive as Scorpio grinned down at her, entirely too jovial for her liking.

"So glad to see that you're back with us first," he crooned, eyes glittering. "Your sister took rather a lot of drugs to put her out. I'll have to add a premium onto her head to cover that cost."

Premium? She stored that snippet of information away for later perusal. She'd come back to that. For now, there was a game to play. And, for the sake of her life and that of her sister, she'd damn well better win it.

"I thought beating up the helpless was more your style," she said levelly, the chill in her voice suited to the frost of the mountains. "I thought there would be more bruises."

"Oh, there will be," he said dismissively, waving his paw. "I didn't want to damage the merchandise too much and, my, oh, my, are you ever so fine merchandise..."

She didn't let him see her shiver as he approached, towering over them even though he was not the tallest of furs by far - not even six foot. He should not have been intimidating, Scorpio, but it was hard not to understand the severity of their position, Danica on her knees and working furiously at the knots at her wrists behind her back even as he approached, step by ominous step.

"You are fine, aren't you?" He murmured, his eyes downcast as if he was in awe of them, somehow. "Such fine bodies... It's no wonder that you've evaded the clutches of many for so long but, bitch, you're about to find out just what it means to make real enemies in this business."

Danica didn't flinch at the name calling but she did cast a wary eye on the pit bull and mastiff furs who trotted into the room as if on cue, carrying a seemingly heavy wooden crate between them. Ripped with muscle and tiny, hard eyes, they were the sort of henchfurs that couldn't be taken out easily, even if they were, most likely, lacking just a little bit of intelligence upstairs.

"Alas, my dear Shepsister, I cannot spare the time to dally and speak to you all the more - time is money, after all."

Gesturing to the canines, the husky raised an eyebrow and pushed his shades down from the top of his head. If Danica had not known better, he could have been a mascot or a hunk advertising something at the resort, only the husky's business went far, far beyond regular means that could have left many with enjoyment. No, his business was in stripping that from every single fur he encountered, leaving them nothing but husks of themselves.

"Danilovich, strip the merchandise."

She would not become a husk.

But the knots were not loose enough and, as the greedy paws of the pit bull reached for her, she turned her muzzle away and missed the moment. Jaws snapped and fur flew, the pit bull howling and yanking his arm away, dripping with blood. Dora thrashed and snarled, striving to bodily launch herself back to her hind paws even though both her wrists and her ankles were bound just like Danica's, seemingly far too little for the sort of predicament that they had stumbled, nose over tits, into.

"Fucking bitch!"

No one was quite sure who said that as the mastiff took over, manhandling Dora and ripping her head back, claws digging into her flesh to draw his own blood. Although Dora howled and thrashed, there was a considerably larger dose of the drug in her body and there was little she could do even as she heaved herself from side to side, intent solely on doing everything in her power - and then some - to free herself.