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I made","description":"*cricket noises*","count":"7","submission_left_submission_id":"219355","submission_left_file_name":"282373_Blackpaw_a_night_in_a_nameless_bar.txt","submission_left_thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/282/282373_Blackpaw_a_night_in_a_nameless_bar.jpg","submission_left_thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/282/282373_Blackpaw_a_night_in_a_nameless_bar.jpg","submission_left_thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/282/282373_Blackpaw_a_night_in_a_nameless_bar.jpg","submission_left_thumb_huge_x":"100","submission_left_thumb_huge_y":"100","submission_left_thumb_large_x":"100","submission_left_thumb_large_y":"100","submission_left_thumb_medium_x":"100","submission_left_thumb_medium_y":"100"}],"description":"another story of Kyle in the hell created by alex reynard. a list of stories in this setting can be found here, https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=33773 and their written a lot better than my sorry lot.\n\nhonestly I've been messing around with this one on and off (mostly off) for quite some time, and the ending is complete shit because I didn't plan ahead and missed ending it when I should have, and I have this bizarre aversion to going back and deleting what I wrote even if its complete shite. \n\nrated adult just in case, but this is mostly the result of me venting during emotional times in my life and therefore contains a lot of, well, let's be nice and call it character development.","description_bbcode_parsed":"another story of Kyle in the hell created by alex reynard. a list of stories in this setting can be found here, https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=33773 and their written a lot better than my sorry lot.

honestly I've been messing around with this one on and off (mostly off) for quite some time, and the ending is complete shit because I didn't plan ahead and missed ending it when I should have, and I have this bizarre aversion to going back and deleting what I wrote even if its complete shite.

rated adult just in case, but this is mostly the result of me venting during emotional times in my life and therefore contains a lot of, well, let's be nice and call it character development.","writing":"Foreword: Hello again readers. I apologize for how long this story took to make, but there was a lot of shit I had to deal with to get to this stage. This is my second (full) story that takes place in the Hell setting created by Alex Reynard, and there are some things I want to change from the first one but couldn't figure out how to make it happen in the narrative.\n\nRetcon 1: Kyle's last name is Flint instead of Blackpaw, and Blackpaw was an unkind nickname given to him by hospital staff because of how frequently he burned his paws (unintentionally). He has embraced the nickname though.\n\nRetcon 2: Kyle's \"Living Plushie\" blankie named Foofoo is no longer a hive mind of the individual bunnies on it, and because it doesn't have a mouth it does not speak but communicates through gesture instead (think the flying carpet from Aladdin). Reasoning behind this is it's really freakin hard to write for a hive mind. \n\nOther Note: Don't read this. It goes no where. This story had taken me so long to finish because I wasn't sure how to end it and I kept dragging things out. Anytime I tried to end it I ended up hating the ending and not touching it for a week. And honestly I never did plan anything before I started writing, instead making it up as it came to me. So I slapped on a weak ending and called it quits. \n\n\nThe scene opens with a pair of children sitting at a breakfast table. One is a rather cute hamster, golden brown and white fur. The other was a dirty blond German shepherd, wearing a red cloth vest. The shepherd is me.\n\nI just couldn't get over how cute Bubbles was when he was confused. I had already explained it to him once but he didn't get it. So I decided to try and explain it a different way. \"OK, so you know that I'm a half demon right?\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"My father was a demon who got into the world of the living somehow right?\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"This has left me with a couple abilities, like the ability to see an individual's soul directly, and when I got down here I accidentally saw Razielphustar's soul directly. The sight overloaded my minds natural terror instinct, you following me?\" \n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Ok so when I woke up the devil told me what was up and gave me a red jacket like this one, but leather.\"\n\nand this was where Bubbles started to look confused. \"But you told me earlier that that jacket wasn't really anything other than a placebo...\"\n\nI cut him off \"I'm getting to that. What had happened was pretty traumatic and the devil being as old and wise as he is knew that I needed something to cling to. So he gave me what I needed, he gave me a job and a physical reminder of that to cling to, so that I would be able to take my mind off what I had seen.\"\n\n\"But he made a lot of it up?\"\n\n\"Yes, he made up the part about the jacket being all special unique like a demon's jacket. A demon's jacket is special because it belongs to a demon. But he could see I needed to be treated all special unique fluff so he made it up to help me.\"\n\nBubbles pondered this for a moment, \"So he lied to you?\"\n\n\"Yes, but only because I needed it. Besides, lest you forget he is know as the Father of Lies, and as The Deceiver.\"\n\n Bubbles just nodded at this.\n\nSo anyway, Razzy told me about that once I had had time to get over it. After that He helped me Practiceooking at him so that I wouldn't pass out again. For a while I would pass out, then I could only just look for short bits, but eventually I built up enough tolerance that it doesn't affect me like it did. I mean it still makes me uncomfortable to see a demon like that, but at least I don't run the risk of passing out anytime I accidentally see a demon under it.\n\nBubbles nodded again. \"And the changes to your house?\"\n\n\"When I came down here I was a loner, and pretty much kept to myself. I was used to keeping everything I need within close reach. But once I got down here all my little mental ticks that kept me from socializing normally disappeared. And as I socialized I found I needed to keep less and less on hand. Now I just have a normal place to stay. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. Everything else I go out and get. Also the Aperture science theme was kinda hard on the eyes, and this looks a lot closer to the house I lived in when I was Still Alive.\" \n\n\"That wasn't funny. And whats up with this city you live in now? \"\n\n\"I have a dark side to me, one that I try to keep you from. I kept it under wraps in life, and in most of Hell I still control it. But here, in Victown I don't have to. Nobody moves here unless they either have the same dark desires I do, and kept it under wraps like I did. Whether they are a 'Criminal' or a 'Victim' everybody here play to that darkness. This is the one place where you don’t have to ask before you rape someone, before you grab them and drag em into an alley, or before just lashing out violently for no reason. Here, in this dark gritty city, we can be anything without consequences, as long as we follow the code.\"\n\nBubbles raised an eyebrow \"Code?\"\n\n\"Yes, a simple set of rules to make sure that nothing ever gets too out of hand and nothing happens to the unwilling. When everyone asks, like they do most everywhere else, its easy to keep things consensual. Not so easy when your just grabbing a random stranger. So there is a couple rules we all follow to keep thing nice and happy. The code basically is that anyone with a giant tourist camera is visiting and therefore off limits. If someone pulls out such a camera during the course of goings on, it means its gotten too much for them and you need to stop. Lastly, don't dish it out if you can't take it. Being here means that you can be just as much of a target as anyone and that's just part of the deal, no fair pulling a camera anytime someone jumps if you're hunting yourself.”\n\nAs I concluded my info dump onto my mate, the clock chimed, indicating that it was time for school. And so with a quick kiss Bubbles bounded off toward the door.\n\nI saw which way he was headed and called out \"My front door isn't where it was anymore, remember?\" he skidded to a halt, smacked his forehead, and took the door to his giant hamster run of a house, causing me to chuckle a bit. We had decided to have a door connecting our houses, despite being in completely different sections of hell. I took a second to throw our dishes in the sink before following him. I didn't want to be late for class.\n\nBubbles front door opened a lot closer to our school than mine did, and I just barely managed to skid to a halt at the bus stop my sliding stop turning into a tumble straight into the bus stop sign as I narrowly avoided dashing into the young fox and bat cubs waiting there already. It looked like Bartleby had spent the night with Xander again. As I looked up and around from my inverted resting position I also spotted Lexi, her hyena femboner clearly visible since she wasn't wearing any panties and I could see straight up her skirt.\n\nLexi looked down at me a then followed my gaze, grinning when she saw what I was looking at. I blushed sheepishly and picked myself up. Bubbles was already starting to chat with Bartleby and Xander, but I hadn't been able to attend many classes and so found I didn't know these guys quite as well as he. Instead I'd spent the time Bubbles was at school training with Razzy to help me get control of the sight and just running generic errands for him and the other demons at the same time. But now that I had gotten it pretty much under control they suggested that I take some time to decide if I wanted to really take on a more active role in hell helping run something or other, or if I wanted to just stay a resident. I didn't have a good answer, so for now I was gonna try just being a resident. \n\nLuckily for me the school bus pulled up with a squeal of the brakes and a belch of smoke from the massive tailpipes sticking up the sides. The spinning rims slowed down to just slowly rotating under electrical power, and the glowing neon underside turned from green to red. The silliness of the whole thing, combined with the black flames on the hood, I couldn't help but just shake my head at the silliness of the whole thing. With a puff of smoke the doors opened and the little group at the stop rushed in, me at the rear. I sat in the front seat on the side opposite the driver, same as I had in life... same as I had been in when I had met Chumpuff (Bubbles) for the first time, and the last time in life.\n\nThe thought of that fateful day made me pause for a while. Long enough that I'm not sure but what someone used a dissolve cut, cause the next thing I noticed was the bus was pulling into the school and the orgy was ending. Hell I was so out of it I spent a good five minutes looking for my pants.\n\nSchool was rather uneventful, well as much so as it ever was down here. I dunno, I think I was really just out of it today. I mean, when you cant enjoy a pop quiz on the Spanish inquisition, somethings wrong. I think the others could tell too, that I needed time to be alone with my thoughts. It was really weird, I was pretty much in the best place I had ever been, surrounded by more friends and people who cared about me than I had been in life, and a lot of the fuckery with my brain had even been cleared up. \n\nI had talked to Razzy about it, and he said that since this place didn't work on the same rules as life, the wiring in my brain would have resolved itself, that the hack wiring job god had, in his “infinite” wisdom to bestow on me had been repaired. He also said that I was probably going to hang on to a lot of my issues anyway, that because they had such a big impact on who I was I would probably stay that way, at least for a while. He had even given me pamphlets for support groups for other furs dealing with the same thing.\n\nAfter lunch I decided that I needed to go some place quiet to think, so I let Mrs. Schaddenfreude know I was gonna take the rest of the day off, and asked her to let Bubbles know when he got back from recess so that he wouldn't worry about me.\n\nOne of the nice things about being down here is that you can find any convenience you want if you look, and that if you need one it's always been there and you just never noticed it. Like for example when I went out into the parking lot I just wanted a way to go somewhere that allowed me to think, so I selected a nice quiet electric car from the vending machine and drove out in a direction, trusting the roads to get me there. And sure enough it wasn't long before I popped off the road and just set out into the middle of a large flat empty expanse of area. I had picked it cause there was always nobody around for miles, unless you got completely lost and wanted out... which I didn't. I hadn't actually been here before, but I had remembered Bartleby mentioning it when he was introducing his angle friend. \n\nEventually I parked the car and disintegrated it, figuring I'd just portal home. It was dead silent, which isn't a pun (see hell language modification act chapter 22: puns) simply because if it was it would too hard to talk without covering your self in pun. It was like no quiet I had ever experienced before, not simply an absence of noise but what I could only be described as anti noise (for more on that subject read Matter, antimatter, and the law of polar opposites) \n\nI could feel the maelstrom that was my thoughts beginning to quiet a bit, still whirling around and around with no logic pattern or reason, but less so that if I focused I could actually try and think on train of thought through instead of having all the issues simply swirl around leaving trails of angst and discontentment. I decided I would come out here and meditate more often. \n\nI had attended one of those support groups in the pamphlets, but they had been all about working through it and learning that you didn't have to be that way anymore. Which was great and all I suppose, but what would that leave me with. I was so screwed up in life, even before the accident, I just didn't know what would be left of me. I know that one of the first thing any support group tells you is that you cant let your problems define you, which is all well and good, but what if the issues are with the things that define you. At one point or another in life most of my issues had been attributed to genetics. For me that had actually helped a lot, because I knew that even though I had to control and fight myself and many many pills each morning and night, it ultimately wasn't something I did to myself. Sure I mean it was never an excuse and it doesn't excuse the many faults I had... I don't really know how to put what I'm saying. It doesn't matter anyway. The point is that in life I was all fucked up with “emotional disabilities” (fuck I hate that label) and that played a big part in how I acted, what I felt and thought, who I fucking was. Then I get down here and poof it's gone. What does that leave me with. Did that mean a large part of my personality was a mistake? What would be left of me if I did learn to stop clinging to my issues? Without them, would I even be the same fur anymore, especially since bodies and physical form were all mutable down here? What if I just lost myself? But at the same time a lot of what the issues did to define me dragged me down and made me unhappy. Did I really have to choose between giving up a large chunk of myself and being miserable. \n\nI raised my head back and just scream at the sky in frustration and anger. I was dead and it Hell, and still the twisted high and mighty son of a bitch was causing me suffering. What had I done to deserve any of this? \n\nAfter a while I became hoarse from screaming incoherent enraged gibberish at the sky. I also noticed my legs were tired. Glancing behind me I could see the trail where I had been pacing and wandering while lost in thought. So I sat down on my ass and started dragging my finger through the sand, the energy and anger having suddenly left after my outburst. I kept dragging and drawing as my eyes glazed over and I enjoyed the brief respite, It not being a very common thing. Eventually though the thoughts came back, like they always did. \n\nOnce they did I opened my eyes. There in the dust in front of me was what essentially was my biggest worry condensed into four little words.\n\n“Who am I now?”\n\nI had no answer. I just didn't know. All my life I had had things that defined me, whether or not they should have, and now they were gone. And what did I have left. Now that I'm dead and made of, at least to my understanding, energy given shape by a spirit, what was I. What if I simply clung to the shadows of my disorders because that was all I had. And if I did give them up, what would be left of my spirit. I had no answers, and staring at the words wasn't getting me anywhere. \n\nA voice came from somewhere behind me “You worry that you will lose yourself because you give up that which holds you down. You suddenly have a level of freedom that you never could have dreampt of, and it scares you. But surely you must realize that nothing can be built solely of bindings and shackles, there must have been something to put those shackles on, to tie those bindings to.”\n\n“Yea maybe, of maybe I need these bonds to keep myself from taking wing into freedom I should never have and melting my wings off in the sun. Maybe with out the bonds to hold me together I would just drift apart disappear altogether.” I responded without turning around.\n\n“Perhaps, but perhaps not. You have been given the key to release yourself from your binds, but you choose to keep them on for a fear that taking them off will change something fundamental about you. But is that anyway to live, in fear of what could be? Is that really the life you want?”\n\n“I'm dead genius. Besides, I never believed in any of that soul crap. And Now I'm just supposed to trust that something, that up until recently I didn't even believe existed, is what makes me who I am and that everything else can just be safely disregarded without consequence? Did you ever stop to consider that possibly all we are is energy with memories of our neurological patterns attached, and that in that case giving up any part of that might be a disastrously bad thing?” I retorted, this time a bit of anger finding its way into my words.\n\n“If what you say is true then what of the souls being reformed? Are they really being saved if what is asked is that they give up the parts of themselves that cause problems for others? Is the whole thing really one big futile..”\n\nI cut the voice off there and the words that came out were so edged with venom and anger that it would have put any combat knife to shame “Considering you seem to have all the goddamn answers you should know better. The process of learning adds pathways to the brain, and the souls in the lowers levels are not simply being lobotomized to become well adjusted even though that would probably be easier. They are learning about their fucking errors. On the other hand what you have been suggesting this whole time is that I give up a giant fucking chunk of what makes me ME! Have you ever considered that maybe I need my fucking pain because that is what defines me as who I am.”\n\nThe voice behind me suddenly carried a great quality of sadness and weariness “Do you truly believe that? Are you really so sure that you need to destroy yourself like this?” There was a sigh behind me that spoke infinitely of someone who has seen too much “If you are truly set in this belief then mere words will not sway you, but it need not be this way.”\n\nAll the hot emotions rushed out of me, and all I felt was loneliness and emptiness. “I don't want to be miserable.”\n\n“Nobody's making you but you.”\n\nAnd with that the presence of the voices source, which I hadn't noticed appear, vanished. With its departure it left two Polaroid pictures which fluttered down so that they both landed in front of me, on top of the question I had traced not too long ago. As I watched the pictures began to resolve themselves as they developed. The first was an image of me sitting by myself in the nameless bar I had been going to more and more frequently to drink my mind empty, at least for a little while. The other was the photo of Mrs. Schaddenfreude's class for the yearbook, me on the left side near the middle and every one including myself tangled up in one big grinning (surprisingly nonsexual) silly mess with lots of bunny ears, silly faces, horseplay, Xander mooning the camera, and just general goofy fun.\n\nI stared at the photos for I don't know how long before I picked them up, and got ready to head home. As I was about to step through my portal I finally looked over to where the voice had come from, but by now any trace there might have been was gone. But as I stepped through the portal I noticed a line drawn through my words and a second question had been added just below my own.\n\n“Who will you become?”\n\nI got home a short time later. I don't know what it was but I felt better, at least temporarily, for my time I had spent thinking. Still I was going to have to deal with it eventually. But for now I decided to just keep doing what I had been doing, taking it one day at a time. Bubbles wasn't home yet, which was no big surprise. It had taken a while, but I had finally gotten him deprogrammed from the Catholicism that had been beaten into him (literally). Now he often went out to hang out with friends after school. Sometimes I would join them, but even though I had become more social down here, I was still a bit of an introvert keeping to myself. It wasn't that I didn't like social interaction, I was just one of those people who social interaction required an input of energy instead of it being a source of energy. \n\nStill I wasn't in the mood to just sit on the couch and read a book or watch TV. So I threw on a pair of boxers and some jeans, laced up my sneakers, and headed out into the Victown night. Not that I had anything specific in mind but after spending all day pretty much wrapped up in my own mind I needed to get out and do something. And so it was that I headed out into a city whose sole purpose in being brightly lit was to create more shadows.\n\nThen I remembered that I had forgotten a couple things, turned on my heel and went back into my house, only to emerge a couple minutes later, this time with a black backpack, a steel chain acting as a belt, and a gun tucked into the waist of my pants (which I do not recommend unless you're like myself and don't particularly mind when it shoots you in the dick or ass by accident)\n\nAs I headed out with my stuff I decided to head to the neon district, because that was one of the areas I hadn't been to yet and it wasn't like I had a better reason to go somewhere else. Not having been there the name game me a few ideas what it would be, the one coming to the forefront of my brain being that the place would be some sort of hyped up mega red-light district. Consequently I spent most of my journey there wondering how one would make such a place, considering that was a fair enough description of any of the urban areas of Hell. Well I use the term urban loosely, seeing as the architecture of this place is far from standardized, I guess I just mean any of the high density population areas.\n\nAs I approached the area however, my thoughts about the area changed. There was neon everywhere, flashing all sorts of signs for bars, casinos, shows, and pretty much anything else. People hustled and bustled up and down along the strip, hopping from building to building or just wandering around seeing the sights. A lot of the furs had cameras on their necks. Clearly I had found the city's tourism center. And it should have been headache inducible loud, and even though I could hear all the noise and it was in fact just that loud it somehow didn't offend the ears the way it would have in life.\n\nRight away I felt lost. It was like no place I had ever been or pictured myself visiting. Still there were a couple of ideas starting to form in the back of my head, many of which I decided to put away for later until I decided a couple things. Things like, even though entering the city limits was essentially giving consent for anything, most people only thought of that in a sexual, pseudo-rape manner, and since that was the expectation they entered with would it be wrong for me to do completely nonsexual but extremely violent things. But then again did I really even want to, or was that just me clinging to the old violent impulses that I'd had to resist during life.\n\nI quickly cut off that train of thought before it got any further. I'd stressed myself enough about that and I was here to unwind, and since I didn't want to form a habit of stress relief through random violence I decided to head into one of the casinos for a bit. \n\nI stepped inside into the well air conditioned building and the noise all around me took on new texture. Less was it the incessant babble you got when a large group of people shared a space, although that was still there, and there was more ringing of bells, flashing lights, and a general sense of fun. The decoration was very rich, and by rich I mean gaudy and shiny. Most surfaces were a highly reflective metals like gold, silver, platinum, and polished brass. All the game tables were gold with a metal felt insert, and the whole thing just shone like a mirror. All the light reflection created weird shadow play, especially since there were only three actual lights that I could see in the place, the rest being lit by the various reflections from every surface.\n\nI wasn't actually sure what had drawn me into this gaudy establishment, considering that gambling wasn't really my scene. Everyone appeared to be having a good time though, and there was a buffet area with tables for eating at. In addition to seemingly bottomless dishes of standard buffet fare there were furs cooked in a variety of different ways, some happily chatting with their devourers, either at the buffet or having their head carried back to a table, and some completely silent unmoving in their roles as dead meat for those who liked eating other furs but found the idea of food talking back a little weird.\n\nLooking at the buffet I briefly considered taking one of the live furs for my meal, but shaking my head I had to decide against it. When I had learned of this town one of the things I had promised myself is that I would not play that kind of game for stress relief. It just wouldn't have been right, and although it might not matter to anyone else I would know. I wouldn't have been doing it for fun or because it made me happy, I would be misplacing my emotions on others who had nothing to do with it. Knowing what I did about myself I knew that it wouldn't be wise to allow myself to even start down that path, so while I was calm I had decided I wouldn't let myself. So instead I grabbed myself a medium coke and a plate of pasta and sat down at a table by myself a surprisingly empty corner of the dining area.\n\nFor a while I poked at my food and lightly sipped at the caffeinated drink. For the most part I did manage to avoid thinking too much by allowing myself to be absorbed in the swirling pattern of the inlay on the table. However it did cross my mind that it was probably a good thing that I had decided that I wouldn't take my stress out on others before started feeling down, because if I hadn't made that resolve before it definitely wouldn't have come to mind now.\n\nStill, I was starting to feel a little better. I had know that I would. My attacks of introspection and anxiety (the two go hand in hand, at least in my case) would be triggered by something random or just come out of nowhere, but it always burned out after a while. That wasn't to say that I no longer had any stress over the issues, just that it was back to its normal manageable level.\n\nBy this point the upset in my stomach that came with the anxiety had settled down a bit, so I finished off my pasta and got rid of the dishes by winging the plate randomly towards the gaming area, where it nicely broke against the head of some kangaroo at one of the poker tables, who immediately slumped over unconscious on the table. Given the cards he was holding I think I might have done him a favor though. \n\nI headed out of the casino and back onto the neon lit street that, judging by the traffic, must have been the main thorough fare for this area. I'll admit that even though I felt a bit better I really had no sense of drive or an end goal, but I just didn't feel like going home quite yet. Instead I just bumbled my down the busy street, bumping into the occasional hooker or nude mime because of my habit of watching my feet while I was walking (something I thought I had under control by this point). \n\nI guess I was pretty lucky that nobody grabbed me while I was so distracted, although the gun I was openly might have had something to do with it. It was just so infuriating, I could tell that I wanted to do something before I headed home. But I just couldn't pin it down. I wasn't in the mood for sex or other related activities. So as I ducked under the arm that came swooping out of the alley I was walking past before admonishing it with a slight nudge against the corner of the nearby casino, I found myself thinking in circles trying to figure out what to do. Although this time it was just straight up irritating, unlike before. It just felt so unfair. I had enough problems even without the inability to figure out what the rest of me has decided it wants to do. \n\nI helped the lion to whom the paw had belonged up off the ground where he had been clutching at his wrist that was bent ninety degrees the wrong way, gave his hand a quick yank to set it back, and muttered something that was half apology half lost in though, and continued to proceed along the street. Once again I found myself grateful for the healing factor that was present on the naughty level, otherwise I would have felt really bad about reacting like that. Still I was a little worried that I had done it because of stress and frustration over that nagging feeling. Hopefully that wasn't the case though. \n\nI turned onto a side street and ran straight into a couple of writers blocks, forming the corner I had written myself into. Deciding that I wasn't going to get any farther going this way I turned on my heel and headed home. I resolved that next time I would plan at least a general shape for where I was going before I started doing it. \n\n\n\n\nFinal note:\nThanks for reading this mess, no idea why you did. I may one day come back and finish this properly (but probably not). So, yeah. Sorry about the crap ending (and the slightly less crap but still crap everything else).\n\n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Foreword: Hello again readers. I apologize for how long this story took to make, but there was a lot of shit I had to deal with to get to this stage. This is my second (full) story that takes place in the Hell setting created by Alex Reynard, and  there are some things I want to change from the first one but couldn't figure out how to make it happen in the narrative.

Retcon 1: Kyle's last name is Flint instead of Blackpaw, and Blackpaw was an unkind nickname given to him by hospital staff because of how frequently he burned his paws (unintentionally). He has embraced the nickname though.

Retcon 2: Kyle's "Living Plushie" blankie named Foofoo is no longer a hive mind of the individual bunnies on it, and because it doesn't have a mouth it does not speak but communicates through gesture instead (think the flying carpet from Aladdin). Reasoning behind this is it's really freakin hard to write for a hive mind.

Other Note: Don't read this. It goes no where. This story had taken me so long to finish because I wasn't sure how to end it and I kept dragging things out. Anytime I tried to end it I ended up hating the ending and not touching it for a week. And honestly I never did plan anything before I started writing, instead making it up as it came to me. So I slapped on a weak ending and called it quits.


The scene opens with a pair of children sitting at a breakfast table. One is a rather cute hamster, golden brown and white fur. The other was a dirty blond German shepherd, wearing a red cloth vest.  The shepherd is me.

I just couldn't get over how cute Bubbles was when he was confused. I had already explained it to him once but he didn't get it. So I decided to try and explain it a different way. "OK, so you know that I'm a half demon right?"

"Right."

"My father was a demon who got into the world of the living somehow right?"

"Right."

"This has left me with a couple abilities, like the ability to see an individual's soul directly, and when I got down here I accidentally saw Razielphustar's soul directly. The sight overloaded my minds natural terror instinct, you following me?"

"Yeah."

"Ok so when I woke up the devil told me what was up and gave me a red jacket like this one, but leather."

and this was where Bubbles started to look confused. "But you told me earlier that that jacket wasn't really anything other than a placebo..."

I cut him off "I'm getting to that. What had happened was pretty traumatic and the devil being as old and wise as he is knew that I needed something to cling to. So he gave me what I needed, he gave me a job and a physical reminder of that to cling to, so that I would be able to take my mind off what I had seen."

"But he made a lot of it up?"

"Yes, he made up the part about the jacket being all special unique like a demon's jacket. A demon's jacket is special because it belongs to a demon. But he could see I needed to be treated all special unique fluff so he made it up to help me."

Bubbles pondered this for a moment, "So he lied to you?"

"Yes, but only because I needed it. Besides, lest you forget he is know as the Father of Lies, and as The Deceiver."

 Bubbles just nodded at this.

So anyway, Razzy told me about that once I had had time to get over it. After that He helped me Practiceooking at him so that I wouldn't pass out again. For a while I would pass out, then I could only just look for short bits, but eventually I built up enough tolerance that it doesn't affect me like it did. I mean it still makes me uncomfortable to see a demon like that, but at least I don't run the risk of passing out anytime I accidentally see a demon under it.

Bubbles nodded again. "And the changes to your house?"

"When I came down here I was a loner, and pretty much kept to myself. I was used to keeping everything I need within close reach. But once I got down here all my little mental ticks that kept me from socializing normally disappeared. And as I socialized I found I needed to keep less and less on hand. Now I just have a normal place to stay. Living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom. Everything else I go out and get. Also the Aperture science theme was kinda hard on the eyes, and this looks a lot closer to the house I lived in when I was Still Alive."

"That wasn't funny. And whats up with this city you live in now? "

"I have a dark side to me, one that I try to keep you from. I kept it under wraps in life, and in most of Hell I still control it. But here, in Victown I don't have to.  Nobody moves here unless they either have the same dark desires I do, and kept it under wraps like I did. Whether they are a 'Criminal' or a 'Victim' everybody here play to that darkness. This is the one place where you don’t have to ask before you rape someone, before you grab them and drag em into an alley, or before just lashing out violently for no reason. Here, in this dark gritty city, we can be anything without consequences, as long as we follow the code."

Bubbles raised an eyebrow "Code?"

"Yes, a simple set of rules to make sure that nothing ever gets too out of hand and nothing happens to the unwilling. When everyone asks, like they do most everywhere else, its easy to keep things consensual. Not so easy when your just grabbing a random stranger. So there is a couple rules we all follow to keep thing nice and happy.  The code basically is that anyone with a giant tourist camera is visiting and therefore off limits. If someone pulls out such a camera during the course of goings on, it means its gotten too much for them and you need to stop. Lastly, don't dish it out if you can't take it. Being here means that you can be just as much of a target as anyone and that's just part of the deal, no fair pulling a camera anytime someone jumps if you're hunting yourself.”

As I concluded my info dump onto my mate, the clock chimed, indicating that it was time for school. And so with a quick kiss Bubbles bounded off toward the door.

I saw which way he was headed and called out "My front door isn't where it was anymore, remember?"  he skidded to a halt, smacked his forehead, and took the door to his giant hamster run of a house, causing me to chuckle a bit. We had decided to have a door connecting our houses, despite being in completely different sections of hell. I took a second to throw our dishes in the sink before following him. I didn't want to be late for class.

Bubbles front door opened a lot closer to our school than mine did, and I just barely managed to skid to a halt at the bus stop my sliding stop turning into a tumble straight into the bus stop sign as I narrowly avoided dashing into the young fox and bat cubs waiting there already. It looked like Bartleby had spent the night with Xander again. As I looked up and around from my inverted resting position I also spotted Lexi, her hyena femboner clearly visible since she wasn't wearing any panties and I could see straight up her skirt.

Lexi looked down at me a then followed my gaze, grinning when she saw what I was looking at. I blushed sheepishly and picked myself up. Bubbles was already starting to chat with Bartleby and Xander, but I hadn't been able to attend many classes and so found I didn't know these guys quite as well as he. Instead I'd spent the time Bubbles was at school training with Razzy to help me get control of the sight and just running generic errands for him and the other demons at the same time. But now that I had gotten it pretty much under control they suggested that I take some time to decide if I wanted to really take on a more active role in hell helping run something or other, or if I wanted to just stay a resident. I didn't have a good answer, so for now I was gonna try just being a resident.

Luckily for me the school bus pulled up with a squeal of the brakes and a belch of smoke from the massive tailpipes sticking up the sides. The spinning rims slowed down to just slowly rotating under electrical power, and the glowing neon underside turned from green to red.  The silliness of the whole thing, combined with the black flames on the hood, I couldn't help but just shake my head at the silliness of the whole thing. With a puff of smoke the doors opened and the little group at the stop rushed in, me at the rear. I sat in the front seat on the side opposite the driver, same as I had in life... same as I had been in when I had met Chumpuff (Bubbles) for the first time, and the last time in life.

The thought of that fateful day made me pause for a while. Long enough that I'm not sure but what someone used a dissolve cut, cause the next thing I noticed was the bus was pulling into the school and the orgy was ending. Hell I was so out of it I spent a good five minutes looking for my pants.

School was rather uneventful, well as much so as it ever was down here. I dunno, I think I was really just out of it today. I mean, when you cant enjoy a pop quiz on the Spanish inquisition, somethings wrong. I think the others could tell too, that I needed time to be alone with my thoughts. It was really weird, I was pretty much in the best place I had ever been, surrounded by more friends and people who cared about me than I had been in life, and a lot of the fuckery with my brain had even been cleared up.

I had talked to Razzy about it, and he said that since this place didn't work on the same rules as life, the wiring in my brain would have resolved itself, that the hack wiring job god had, in his “infinite” wisdom to bestow on me had been repaired. He also said that I was probably going to hang on to a lot of my issues anyway, that because they had such a big impact on who I was I would probably stay that way, at least for a while. He had even given me pamphlets for support groups for other furs dealing with the same thing.

After lunch I decided that I needed to go some place quiet to think, so I let Mrs. Schaddenfreude know I was gonna take the rest of the day off, and asked her to let Bubbles know when he got back from recess so that he wouldn't worry about me.

One of the nice things about being down here is that you can find any convenience you want if you look, and that if you need one it's always been there and you just never noticed it. Like for example when I went out into the parking lot I just wanted a  way to go somewhere that allowed me to think, so I selected a nice quiet electric car from the vending machine and drove out in a direction, trusting the roads to get me there. And sure enough it wasn't long before I popped off the road and just set out into the middle of a large flat empty expanse of area. I had picked it cause there was always nobody around for miles, unless you got completely lost and wanted out... which I didn't. I hadn't actually been here before, but I had remembered Bartleby mentioning it when he was introducing his angle friend.

Eventually I parked the car and disintegrated it, figuring I'd just portal home. It was dead silent, which isn't a pun (see hell language modification act chapter 22: puns) simply because if it was it would too hard to talk without covering your self in pun. It was like no quiet I had ever experienced before, not simply an absence of noise but what I could only be described as anti noise (for more on that subject read Matter, antimatter, and the law of polar opposites)

I could feel the maelstrom that was my thoughts beginning to quiet a bit, still whirling around and around with no logic pattern or reason, but less so that if I focused I could actually try and think on train of thought through instead of having all the issues simply swirl around leaving trails of angst and discontentment. I decided I would come out here and meditate more often.

I had attended one of those support groups in the pamphlets, but they had been all about working through it and learning that you didn't have to be that way anymore. Which was great and all I suppose, but what would that leave me with. I was so screwed up in life, even before the accident, I just didn't know what would be left of me. I know that one of the first thing any support group tells you is that you cant let your problems define you, which is all well and good, but what if the issues are with the things that define you. At one point or another in life most of my issues had been attributed to genetics. For me that had actually helped a lot, because I knew that even though I had to control and fight myself and many many pills each morning and night, it ultimately wasn't something I did to myself. Sure I mean it was never an excuse and it doesn't excuse the many faults I had... I don't really know how to put what I'm saying. It doesn't matter anyway. The point is that in life I was all fucked up with “emotional disabilities” (fuck I hate that label) and that played a big part in how I acted, what I felt and thought, who I fucking was. Then I get down here and poof it's gone. What does that leave me with. Did that mean a large part of my personality was a mistake? What would be left of me if I did learn to stop clinging to my issues? Without them, would I even be the same fur anymore, especially since bodies and physical form were all mutable down here? What if I just lost myself? But at the same time a lot of what the issues did to define me dragged me down and made me unhappy. Did I really have to choose between giving up a large chunk of myself and being miserable.

I raised my head back and just scream at the sky in frustration and anger. I was dead and it Hell, and still the twisted high and mighty son of a bitch was causing me suffering. What had I done to deserve any of this?

After a while I became hoarse from screaming incoherent enraged gibberish at the sky. I also noticed my legs were tired. Glancing behind me I could see the trail where I had been pacing and wandering while lost in thought. So I sat down on my ass and started dragging my finger through the sand, the energy and anger having suddenly left after my outburst. I kept dragging and drawing as my eyes glazed over and I enjoyed the brief respite, It not being a very common thing. Eventually though the thoughts came back, like they always did.

Once they did I opened my eyes. There in the dust in front of me was what essentially was my biggest worry condensed into four little words.

“Who am I now?”

I had no answer. I just didn't know. All my life I had had things that defined me, whether or not they should have, and now they were gone. And what did I have left. Now that I'm dead and made of, at least to my understanding, energy given shape by a spirit, what was I. What if I simply clung to the shadows of my disorders because that was all I had. And if I did give them up, what would be left of my spirit. I had no answers, and staring at the words wasn't getting me anywhere.

A voice came from somewhere behind me “You worry that you will lose yourself because you give up that which holds you down. You suddenly have a level of freedom that you never could have dreampt of, and it scares you. But surely you must realize that nothing can be built solely of bindings and shackles, there must have been something to put those shackles on, to tie those bindings to.”

“Yea maybe, of maybe I need these bonds to keep myself from taking wing into freedom I should never have and melting my wings off in the sun. Maybe with out the bonds to hold me together I would just drift apart disappear altogether.” I responded without turning around.

“Perhaps, but perhaps not. You have been given the key to release yourself from your binds, but you choose to keep them on for a fear that taking them off will change something fundamental about you. But is that anyway to live, in fear of what could be? Is that really the life you want?”

“I'm dead genius. Besides, I never believed in any of that soul crap. And Now I'm just supposed to trust that something, that up until recently I didn't even believe existed, is what makes me who I am and that everything else can just be safely disregarded without consequence? Did you ever stop to consider that possibly all we are is energy with memories of our neurological patterns attached, and that in that case giving up any part of that might be a disastrously bad thing?” I retorted, this time a bit of anger finding its way into my words.

“If what you say is true then what of the souls being reformed? Are they really being saved if what is asked is that they give up the parts of themselves that cause problems for others? Is the whole thing really one big futile..”

I cut the voice off there and the words that came out were so edged with venom and anger that it would have put any combat knife to shame “Considering you seem to have all the goddamn answers you should know better. The process of learning adds pathways to the brain, and the souls in the lowers levels are not simply being lobotomized to become well adjusted even though that would probably be easier. They are learning about their fucking errors. On the other hand what you have been suggesting this whole time is that I give up a giant fucking chunk of what makes me ME!  Have you ever considered  that maybe I need my fucking pain because that is what defines me as who I am.”

The voice behind me suddenly carried a great quality of sadness and weariness “Do you truly believe that? Are you really so sure that you need to destroy yourself like this?” There was a sigh behind me that spoke infinitely of someone who has seen too much “If you are truly set in this belief then mere words will not sway you, but it need not be this way.”

All the hot emotions rushed out of me, and all I felt was loneliness and emptiness. “I don't want to be miserable.”

“Nobody's making you but you.”

And with that the presence of the voices source, which I hadn't noticed appear, vanished. With its departure it left two Polaroid pictures which fluttered down so that they both landed in front of me, on top of the question I had traced not too long ago. As I watched the pictures began to resolve themselves as they developed. The first was an image of me sitting by myself in the nameless bar I had been going to more and more frequently to drink my mind empty, at least for a little while. The other was the photo of Mrs. Schaddenfreude's class for the yearbook, me on the left side near the middle and every one including myself tangled up in one big grinning (surprisingly nonsexual) silly mess with lots of bunny ears, silly faces, horseplay,  Xander mooning the camera, and just general goofy fun.

I stared at the photos for I don't know how long before I picked them up, and got ready to head home. As I was about to step through my portal I finally looked over to where the voice had come from, but by now any trace there might have been was gone. But as I stepped through the portal I noticed a line drawn through my words and a second question had been added just below my own.

“Who will you become?”

I got home a short time later. I don't know what it was but I felt better, at least temporarily, for my time I had spent thinking. Still I was going to have to deal with it eventually. But for now I decided to just keep doing what I had been doing, taking it one day at a time. Bubbles wasn't home yet, which was no big surprise. It had taken a while, but I had finally gotten him deprogrammed from the Catholicism that had been beaten into him (literally). Now he often went out to hang out with friends after school. Sometimes I would join them, but even though I had become more social down here, I was still a bit of an introvert keeping to myself. It wasn't that I didn't like social interaction, I was just one of those people who social interaction required an input of energy instead of it being a source of energy.

Still I wasn't in the mood to just sit on the couch and read a book or watch TV. So I threw on a pair of boxers and some jeans, laced up my sneakers, and headed out into the Victown night. Not that I had anything specific in mind but after spending all day pretty much wrapped up in my own mind I needed to get out and do something. And so it was that I headed out into a city whose sole purpose in being brightly lit was to create more shadows.

Then I remembered that I had forgotten a couple things, turned on my heel and went back into my house, only to emerge a couple minutes later, this time with a black backpack, a steel chain acting as a belt, and a gun tucked into the waist of my pants (which I do not recommend unless you're like myself and don't particularly mind when it shoots you in the dick or ass by accident)

As I headed out with my stuff I decided to head to the neon district, because that was one of the areas I hadn't been to yet and it wasn't like I had a better reason to go somewhere else. Not having been there the name game me a few ideas what it would be, the one coming to the forefront of my brain being that the place would be some sort of hyped up mega red-light district. Consequently I spent most of my journey there wondering how one would make such a place, considering that was a fair enough description of any of the urban areas of Hell. Well I use the term urban loosely, seeing as the architecture of this place is far from standardized, I guess I just mean any of the high density population areas.

As I approached the area however, my thoughts about the area changed. There was neon everywhere, flashing all sorts of signs for bars, casinos, shows, and pretty much anything else. People hustled and bustled up and down along the strip, hopping from building to building or just wandering around seeing the sights. A lot of the furs had cameras on their necks. Clearly I had found the city's tourism center. And it should have been headache inducible loud, and even though I could hear all the noise and it was in fact just that loud it somehow didn't offend the ears the way it would have in life.

Right away I felt lost. It was like no place I had ever been or pictured myself visiting. Still there were a couple of ideas starting to form in the back of my head, many of which I decided to put away for later until I decided a couple things. Things like, even though entering the city limits was essentially giving consent for anything, most people only thought of that in a sexual, pseudo-rape manner, and since that was the expectation they entered with would it be wrong for me to do completely nonsexual but extremely violent things. But then again did I really even want to, or was that just me clinging to the old violent impulses that I'd had to resist during life.

I quickly cut off that train of thought before it got any further. I'd stressed myself enough about that and  I was here to unwind, and since I didn't want to form a habit of stress relief through random violence I decided to head into one of the casinos for a bit.

I stepped inside into the well air conditioned building and the noise all around me took on new texture. Less was it the incessant babble you got when a large group of people shared a space, although that was still there, and there was more ringing of bells, flashing lights, and a general sense of fun. The decoration was very rich, and by rich I mean gaudy and shiny. Most surfaces were a highly reflective metals like gold, silver, platinum, and polished brass. All the game tables were gold with a metal felt insert, and the whole thing just shone like a mirror. All the light reflection created weird shadow play, especially since there were only three actual lights that I could see in the place, the rest being lit by the various reflections from every surface.

I wasn't actually sure what had drawn me into this gaudy establishment, considering that gambling wasn't really my scene. Everyone appeared to be having a good time though, and there was a buffet area with tables for eating at. In addition to seemingly bottomless dishes of standard buffet fare there were furs cooked in a variety of different ways, some happily chatting with their devourers, either at the buffet or having their head carried back to a table, and some completely silent unmoving in their roles as dead meat for those who liked eating other furs but found the idea of food talking back a little weird.

Looking at the buffet I briefly considered taking one of the live furs for my meal, but shaking my head I had to decide against it. When I had learned of this town one of the things I had promised myself is that I would not play that kind of game for stress relief. It just wouldn't have been right, and although it might not matter to anyone else I would know. I wouldn't have been doing it for fun or because it made me happy, I would be misplacing my emotions on others who had nothing to do with it. Knowing what I did about myself I knew that it wouldn't be wise to allow myself to even start down that path, so while I was calm I had decided I wouldn't let myself. So instead I grabbed myself a medium coke and a plate of pasta and sat down at a table by myself a surprisingly empty corner of the dining area.

For a while I poked at my food and lightly sipped at the caffeinated drink. For the most part I did manage to avoid thinking too much by allowing myself to be absorbed in the swirling pattern of the inlay on the table. However it did cross my mind that it was probably a good thing that I had decided that I wouldn't take my stress out on others before  started feeling down, because if I hadn't made that resolve before it definitely wouldn't have come to mind now.

Still, I was starting to feel a little better. I had know that I would. My attacks of introspection and anxiety (the two go hand in hand, at least in my case) would be triggered by something random or just come out of nowhere, but it always burned out after a while. That wasn't to say that I no longer had any stress over the issues, just that it was back to its normal manageable level.

By this point the upset in my stomach that came with the anxiety had settled down a bit, so I finished off my pasta and got rid of the dishes by winging the plate randomly towards the gaming area, where it nicely broke against the head of some kangaroo at one of  the poker tables, who immediately slumped over unconscious on the table. Given the cards he was holding I think I might have done him a favor though.

I headed out of the casino and back onto the neon lit street that, judging by the traffic, must have been the main thorough fare for this area. I'll admit that even though I felt a bit better I really had no sense of drive or an end goal, but I just didn't feel like going home quite yet. Instead I just bumbled my down the busy street, bumping into the occasional hooker or nude mime because of my habit of watching my feet while I was walking (something I thought I had under control by this point).  

I guess I was pretty lucky that nobody grabbed me while I was so distracted, although the gun I was openly might have had something to do with it. It was just so infuriating, I could tell that I wanted to do something before I headed home.  But I just couldn't pin it down. I wasn't in the mood for sex or other related activities. So as I ducked under the arm that came swooping out of the alley I was walking past before admonishing it with a slight nudge against the corner of the nearby casino, I found myself thinking in circles trying to figure out what to do. Although this time it was just straight up irritating, unlike before. It just felt so unfair. I had enough problems even without the inability to figure out what the rest of me has decided it wants to do.

I helped the lion to whom the paw had belonged up off the ground where he had been clutching at his wrist that was bent ninety degrees the wrong way, gave his hand a quick yank to set it back, and muttered something that was half apology half lost in though, and continued to proceed along the street. Once again I found myself grateful for the healing factor that was present on the naughty level, otherwise I would have felt really bad about reacting like that. Still I was a little worried that I had done it because of stress and frustration over that nagging feeling.  Hopefully that wasn't the case though.

I turned onto a side street and ran straight into a couple of writers blocks, forming the corner I had written myself into. Deciding that I wasn't going to get any farther going this way I turned on my heel and headed home. I resolved that next time I would plan at least a general shape for where I was going before I started doing it.




Final note:
Thanks for reading this mess, no idea why you did. I may one day come back and finish this properly (but probably not). So, yeah. Sorry about the crap ending (and the slightly less crap but still crap everything else).


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