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This written work is the sole property of Gratitude-Advocate (aka Michael Hall) © 2014, 2018. Do not remove the original artist's proof or alter, revise, plagiarize, or otherwise abhorrently copy this story or any passages included therein for your own benefit. Do not redistribute this story for any monetary gain in any way, shape or form without first consulting the original author's explicit & exclusive written permission. All rights have been reserved under penalty of law.
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This story is based entirely on adult-oriented fiction. Any similarities between real events, locations and/or persons are completely and wholeheartedly coincidental. All included described characters, locations and/or events are written to represent purely fictional entities and should not be taken under consideration as non-fictional.
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"If a man aspires towards a righteous life, his first act of abstinence is from injury to animals." - Albert Einstein

"Death is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end of all." - Lucius Annaeus Seneca

"Every man needs two women: a quiet home-maker, and a thrilling nymph." - Iris Murdoch

"Evil spelled backwards is Live." - Unknown

	1.
	Alyssa fucked Chris in sweet succulent privacy until that dreaded fateful evening when Jessie Sue texted the invitation, awakened from a state of ignorant bliss.

Christopher, an attractive young fox male brimming with adolescent lust, never faltered for an instant, giving in to Alyssa's immediate passes of raw arousal and flirtatious aspirations. Alyssa, a curvaceous otter girl, savored his ongoing advances. Without ever being fully exposed, he'd manage to sport numerous stealth erections that surfaced from maintaining a mere presence around Alyssa, even though she knew what his interior motives were without ever asking. She wasn't born yesterday, wasn't that completely unaware of the canine's truest intentions. 
In essence, Alyssa liked when any self-respecting male glanced upon her as a symbol of pure sexual desire. To be regarded as a hot little fuck-worthy number really turned her on something fierce. She'd always be willing to embrace such liberating feelings of substantial female domination and sexual prowess over lackluster shy guys who faltered easily to her sublime proclivities; licking the sperm off the foreskinned tip of her neighbor's teenage son, for instance, skinny little beanpole of a wolf-boy he is. 
To make the very best of his own spare time, Chris spent plenty of it wooing over Alyssa's nude slick-furred otter body. He'd step out to run a quick errand, only to wind up right back between the slender trembling legs of his illicit lover; enveloped beneath dampened silky maroon-velvet bed-sheets, soaked through with flooding torrents of cum and the occasional urine spot or two.
She was the girl who'd lick at a stream of icy-cool tap water running from a garden hose while dripping wet in a thin cotton T-shirt that barely ever fit...and nothing else. She was the girl who wooed him with a sultry gaze and a quick teasing flash of her cherished womanhood when all other eyes were averted, busy studying for the midterm final or gawking over various clothing sizes on the racks. She was every considerate mother's worst nightmare and then some; Alyssa, of course, couldn't be more enraptured in her love life and neither could Chris, the lucky devil.
Chris maintained a tidy well-kept supply of Astroglide and Kleenex handy at all times. He'd stroke himself off to enticing Polaroid snapshots of his otter mistress, horny and sprawled wide - taken exclusively just for him. He fantasized over the idea of her screaming his name repeatedly into his curved-back fox ear at the mere cusp of orgasm, breasts smooshed against his chests, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms scratching down his back.
He loved the ideal prospects of Alyssa licking and nibbling at his gauge-pierced fur-lined earlobe while he'd drive himself ferociously balls-deep into her, ramming his knot in and out as fast as a piston slides into an engine block with rapid succession.
Chris masturbated quite frequently, dreaming of lucid multiple teeth-clenching ejaculations from each heated thrust of his well-endowed knotted canine penis, driven with rigorous passion into her pristine snare-tight whorish vagina, night after every semen-drenched night. It was a glorious - if not strictly taboo - ongoing tenebrous love affair if there'd ever been one and he felt no shame. Neither did Alyssa, the filthy minx. They lived to screw each other.
They fucked in sweet succulent privacy for as long as they were able to do so because they were insatiable for each other. Reciprocation of the highest regard.
Every mouthwatering chance he could afford, especially after-hours in the privacy of his own bathroom, the foxy Don Juan would constantly drool over various pin-up fold-out images of the current "hot tart of the month" from his favorite aquatic species girlie-mags, which he kept a hefty collection of. No Alyssa? No problem, insofar as he was concerned.
The pictures always looked identical to Alyssa's own busty measurements and curvaceous features, consisting of females with saucy hot seafaring legs spread wide, webbed hand-claws and foot-paws outstretched with petite toes curled inward, exposing a multitude of gloriously holy altars, all suited for Chris's tongue to probe and ponder about.
Chris had always savored such juicy crimson-pink coral; fleshy sexual divinity, churning insatiable mad lust; the best method of wooing a young pent-up horny male fox teenager with a predominant boner-savvy sex drive. Alyssa couldn't be more flattered with his vast coming-on behavior as a result. She yearned for his delirious orgasmic prowess, savored his mad crazy tribal passion in bed, wallowed in his enduring ability to maintain knotted erections for hour-long stretches and never lose that potent libido.
She'd even left Chris with a pair of her own unwashed sea-salt-scented panties to allow him the chance to drown in the dizzying potency of her feminine musk. Night after night, Chris would gnaw at the vaginal padding of her undergarments, giving himself intensely heated, heart-pounding masturbatory alone-time behind closed and locked doors. The vinegary-sweet taste always supercharged his illicit lust-factors, forcefully priming him to leak pre-cum.
When the cards were played right, she'd show up at his place to get busy, usually fucking him raw and slurping fresh fox-jizz right from the tip of his throbbing fox-dick, interspersed with her own vaginal secretions. Without breaking a stride, she'd leave him a fresh new soiled pair with each new visit, for the purposes of licking and sniffing and exulting.
For roughly two years going, this was the full extent of their love affair, which was anything less than scrumptious to some yet torrid with filth to others. They let their satisfactions gain the upper hand and their genitalia do all the talking.
	But all good things eventually come to an end, as Alyssa's sensitive autistic friend Jessie Sue would gladly insist.

	Jessie Sue was a younger anthro-girl of "canis lupus" origin (meaning a she-wolf) who'd unfortunately been made well-nigh aware of Alyssa's initial fling through jealousy-driven imposing investigative spy work. Seething envy from all four corners of her world constantly spewed poison upon her collective well-being. She was kept up late, night after night, gnawing through her fingernails, rubbing her temples, rocking steadily back and forth against her headboard while humming a nursery rhyme to herself for solace in comfort (any one usually settled her down) in the hopes of maintaining a shred of dignity.
	No peace of mind ever lay in sight for Jessie Sue, for she envied Alyssa's sexual prowess, constantly prying over Chris' personal belongings such as his cell-phone and his Furaffinity account, which he used as often as a high-school cheerleader uses her LiveJournal to discover if any tomfoolery between the two had ever been set afoot. 
	Chris could've confessed to anything he dared so please; anything but a surprise love affair. He'd always feared of hurting the eccentric wolf-girl's feelings, not to mention breaking his mistress' friend's heart. This cuckolding behavior would soon be the bane that overwhelms Christopher's lecherous conscience, may God help him.
Over time, Jessie's makeshift detective work paid off - for her, at least. Soon she discovered the nature of their lusty re-occurring flings: Cum-stains upon her own bed sheets, strange unbeknownst lacy turquoise-blue panties that suddenly appeared buried at the bottom of her dirty clothing hamper, torn condom wrappers beneath her mattress box-spring frame smeared with a glossy pink lipstick that she could barely recall and soiled prophylactics not too far out of proximity from their pre-opened packets.
She'd even unveiled a carefully stashed digital photo collection hidden away in Christopher's "personal writing" folder on his laptop, found during an early morning PC purge, before he could awaken and catch her in the act. Jessie Sue's jaw became unhinged as she witnessed, perused and actively chronicled Chris performing depraved acts of cunnilingus, anilingus, titty-fucking, hard anal knotting, vaginal abuse, breast nibbling and a myriad of other carnal perversions taken out upon a random otter girl... Alyssa, perhaps?
	The evidence remained ever-persistent and irrefutable.
Some friend Alyssa wound up being to the poor wolf girl, stealing Jessie's solemn love interest right out from under her nose with queer injustice and a post-haste rather unheard of, even from one's most notoriously ordained enemy. The night Jessie discovered the bare truth exposed at last between Alyssa and Chris, her world spiraled down the toilet bowl of sordid realization. Her heart ripped violently in two and her knees turned gelatinous, quivering with fraught and tattered nerves. Her lips curled upward, exposing a snarling set of pearly-white teeth.
Those two goddamned cock-sucking bitch-wad motherfucking cunt-licking backstabbers! Jessie Sue thought over and over again, festering with seething bitter envy. Her heart felt as if it had been ripped asunder and drenched with hydrochloric acid and raped asunder.
Soon after finding all other burdens of proof that there had certainly been oodles of funny business ongoing for a number of months between the two backstabbers, Jessie Sue diligently ate her dinner alone, wiped her plate off gently with a wet dish-rag, folded her laundry into neatly-stacked piles, settled down to her twin-sized bed, switched off a nearby lamp that rested upon a large oaken headboard pedestal and cried herself to sleep. She was enraged and infuriated beyond all comprehension at how callous some individuals really could be. 
This was on a Sunday evening, set amidst the brink of a major storm creeping with imminent haste upon the peaceful forested range of vast Oregon stateline coast. Doppler reports predicted hurricane-like conditions with low to mid-level winds and flashed ads with phone numbers intact for those voluntarily willing to help build sandbag moats along major inner-city exchanges near Grants Pass, Eugene, Brookings and all other outlying coastal areas in an act of preventing excess flooding, something not typically addressed under casual conditions.

2.
Anybody.
	Christ, it could have been anybody at all, but why Alyssa? Why, God? Why?!
Jessie Sue tortured her mind to death as she lay paralyzed in her bed, defeated and crushed; ruined and brokenhearted. Curled into a fetal position, clutching hold of a throw-pillow between her arms, tears streaming down her canine fur-pelted cheek and landing upon the cottony bulge of another larger pillow beneath her muzzle, she questioned the validity of her friendship. 
Her sex appeal.
Her own mental state of mind.
She hated being different.
Never fitting in with others.
Feeling awkward, so deathly nervous around large groups.
That was her worst nightmare...and now this? 
She didn't know how much more she could take and for how much longer she'd be able to tolerate-
"Hold your tears, child."
"W-what the-" Jessie looked back at the doorway from where the phantom voice came from and locked eyes with a mangy, decrepit feral wolf. How on earth it managed to enter her home, she couldn't even begin to figure out. She was far too shocked and vulnerable to question herself anyways.
"I am here now." The wolf said… wait, did it just speak? Jessie Sue had no time to second-guess herself. She jumped up out of bed and lashed out aggressively.
"GO AWAY!!! Get out! NOW!" Jessie screamed as she hurled her throw-pillow at the creature. He dodged the fluffy projectile easily, pose set in a stoic prone position, undisturbed in the least by her pillow attack.
"No need to fear, child. I am here to help you and to sa-"
"How on earth is it that you can talk and I can understand you? I thought all ferals couldn't converse with our kind?? How can you...do that?" Jessie Sue asked, breathing settling down. She inched closer to the wolf, tilting her head to get a better look at his ragged fur coat, his tangle-splotched ear fur tufts, his ethereal glowing gamboge-hued eyes, piercing and radiant amidst the soft subtle glow of natural moonlight. Jessie Sue knelt down in front of the wolf, feeling completely helpless under his impending gaze. Her knees were weak, apt to give out quite easily.
Jessie Sue knelt down in place and growled at the feral, making direct eye-to-eye contact.
	"Who are you? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!? How'd you even get in here!? I padlocked all my doors, locked all my windows, even installed a seven-hundred freaking dollar Brinks security syst-"
"Not important." The wolf grumbled. Its mandibles opened wide as it leaned forward to stretch, raising its butt into the air and scratching at its torso with its hind leg. Jessie Sue flinched briefly before settling in place once again. She saw that the wolf's hind leg wasn't entirely attached to its body. When he scratched at his flank, the leg flopped and fumbled aimlessly about, not even reaching the sensitive spot to be itched. Jessie said nothing, only stared with a deep harrowing sense of pity, stared at how close that tiny flap of skin and fur was to snapping in half and fully severing the creature's hind leg for good. 
The wolf finally rid itself of the itch and continued, haunches perched in place.
"Not yet, anyways. What should be important to you now is how you will deal with the otter bitch whom you once called your friend and the stud-dick fox whom she now quenches for regularly. The same fox who you, yourself, have longed for. The one you fantasized about for so very long. The one you wanted for yourself, but never could get, no matter how hard you tried to appeal to his good nature."
Jessie stared wide-eyed at the wolf, perched perfectly still in the doorframe of her bedroom. She couldn't decide if she should scream or run so she did neither. His eyes twinkled with a soft, comforting glow, a hospitable sparkle. If this was how glimmering felt, Jessie Sue never wanted it to end. She felt a tingling sensation in the base of her spine that shifted into her belly and flowed into her groin. Upon enduring a brief spastic reactionary twitching, she remained frozen in place, now completely observant of the handsome feral wolf's words. She felt moist for him, somehow.
"Come now, you know of whom I speak." The wolf said in a mocking tone, sneering its muzzle to bear its teeth in a sarcastic smirk, causing Jessie Sue to blush timidly.
An overwhelming twinge of fear and uncertainty flooded over Jessie Sue's mind. There also lay a flash of curiosity as well. She wanted to hear what this strange beast with perfect vocal range and crystal-clear diction had to say about those two humongous jerks who'd practically betrayed her to her own grave. She gave herself a moment of thought and clarity.
"Go on." Jessie said at last, after a brief contemplative minute.
	The wolf growled low and deep, wagging his tail, quite satisfied indeed.
A crackling flash of lightning enveloped her sight with a purple afterimage burned briefly into her peripheral vision of a jagged line. As the replying rumble of thunder boomed with an abysmal rage, she glanced upon the small round circular embers of the wolf's eyes as her collective vision returned from an infinite null void of blue fuzz that had briefly clouded her vision, a zig-zagged shadow now reduced to the mere memory of a silhouette. 
	The wolf took this opportunity to continue.
"As I was saying then: you lay in your bed weeping for a love interest who in turn doesn't show a stroke of interest in you. Never has, most likely never will. Even now, this 'Christopher' of whom you so solemnly yearn for is giving your so-called otter friend a soul-stealing orgasm. In her vehicle. Behind a convenience store. Downtown. Right on the outskirts-" The wolf's head began to point in the direction of their location before Jessie Sue grabbed both his cheeks and pushed her nose against his, staring avidly into his eyes. He scoffed and reared back but couldn't hope to budge from Jessie Sue's iron grip. 
"I don't...but...wait, how you can possibly…" Jessie Sue stuttered, trying to make sense of things. She shook her head to clear the confusion a bit. "...just what are you saying, exactly?"
	The wolf chuckled and licked at Jessie Sue's upper lip - just a single tongue-lashing. She felt a queer sensation swell up in her breasts, causing her nipples to harden and grow rigid, slightly erect, perky as traffic cones. She desperately wanted him to lick her lips again, maybe even take it a step or two further. He caught onto her lewd intentions and growled aloud, setting her focus straight once more, urging her to concentrate and listen.
"Our senses are enhanced, child. That is one trait in your genealogy that those damned forsaken humans couldn't dream of tampering with in order to further establish yourself to their own greedy genetic properties. I can hear, smell, see and even taste...every little thing. Just as you can too. You simply haven't challenged your limits yet. But you will. Oh, heed my words when I say that you most certainly will. All in due time."
By then, all traces of fright had left Jessie and she felt an overwhelming fascination, an epiphany of longing, burning a hole through her conscious being, lingering contrails in her soul. The wolf's irises burned brighter and brighter still with a luminous fire-tinted glow that faded from yellow and delved deeper into a tumultuous scathing red, such vibrant crimson. Labored irregular breathing could be heard echoing from the recesses of his phlegm-scorched lungs crystal-clearly. White vapor clouds drifted from his cold wet nose in droves. A scent of moldy earthen decay crept into the room, pungent and thick.
Jessie shivered as a cool breeze whistled against her bedroom window, causing the plate-glass surface to rattle and creak. Cold air drifted through slightly askew windowsill cracks. Jessie felt completely hypnotized by the feral creature's impending doom-ridden eyes. Yellowish-red and phosphorous, they stared at her, into her, through her. Then his large wolf ears perked up and he began to walk towards her very slowly in a near-crawl, not even ten feet from her direct vicinity.
Jessie Sue reeled back in reaction, eyes watery and swelling.
"Why have you come to me to say this... to tell me what I'd already suspected initially?" The wolf-girl asked, crawling backwards like a crab, attempting to keep the gap between her and the mangy feral wolf intact. A part of her was horrified of the wolf and his dire intentions.
"My child, you and I both know how thoroughly you desire payback by any and or all means possible. You want answers from both of them. Not individually but simultaneously. That would propel them into a talking mood, this much I wouldn't doubt in mind. Expose them both. Hit them both where it hurts the very most, at the same time. Kill two birds with but a single stone, child." The wolf said. 
The mysterious beast reared back into a quasi-fetal position and lifted its right hind leg up to scratch at the scruff of its neck, more like a thick bushy mane, extending its head outward while craning its neck for leverage support. A droning stare towards Jessie remained intact the entire time. She saw how his left hind leg was indeed barely hanging on by a scrap of flesh and skin, fur pulled taut. A maternal, more considerate part of her wanted to find a pair of scissors, even forceps would do… anything to help cut that ugly limb free from the rest of the sexy feral wolf, so fine in the right lighting, apt to give her a good hard knot-deep romp or several.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I thinking?!
Jessie Sue nodded her head, single tear streaming down her cheek from a corner of her almond-crescent wolfess eyelid, lower lips trembling with the threat of unoppressed weeping.
"You... you're right." Jessie said. She could barely hear her own voice.
"I know how disgusted you are with the world not being able to understand your advances. I understand truly how frustrating your life can become, not being able to comprehend what others are hinting at, most times. You cannot read social cues, neither can you tolerate large groups. Crowds frighten you to death as well as negative confrontation. You feel heartbroken that the one whom you do so solemnly desire has fallen sway for another as vibrantly as he has done so."
"Yes I do." Jessie said in a faint, timid whisper, not allowing her embarrassment to surpass her inquisitive reasoning or her sentimental emotions, so fraught with worry.
"You are not alone, child. Always remember that." The wolf said.
Jessie Sue wanted to see both Alyssa and Chris together at the same time to confront them directly, no matter how harrowing or chaotic the melodrama itself had promised to be, dutifully unfolded. This time around, Jessie wouldn't tolerate infidelity without a logical reason first-hand to keep a threshold of well-provided peace of mind. 
"Send them a message, child. Tell them to meet you at your special place. A place you hold fond in your own memory, in your own adolescent childhood. A very special place...tell them. Send them a message, child." The wolf said. His villainous voice echoed into the cold pitch-black unknown, possessing a semblance of voracious undertones.
Jessie Sue felt her eyelids grow heavy, dense and hard to keep open. She nodded out briefly, eyes closed and mind open. Any fear she felt towards the feral wolf had all but disappeared.

	Naturally (if not obviously), Jessie Sue had always loved Chris very much, though she shared feelings for him without anticipating reciprocation. She always felt nothing but the very highest regard for his looks, his antics, his personality and his unmistakable charm. Chris was a very family-oriented young fox and had always been for as long as anyone else could remember who knew of him. His yearning for family participation and appreciation in all things elderly was what attracted Jessie to him in the strongest sense, what drew her attention to his pure unchallenged honesty and compassion. Everything about him wooed Jessie into a choke-hold of sweet illicit puppy love. Although she partially assumed that he felt little to no similar feelings for her, she instead let his affections ride out naturally for as long as needed while she kept him in her life as a boyfriend to others and a friend with benefits to herself, if not merely in her own troubled stress-induced mind. For she too had dreamed of fantastic entwined love affairs with the likes of Christopher.
After a short while, Jessie's patience with both of them began to wear thin. Her natural instincts and non-stop pondering suspicions led her to suspect sheer desire, growling constantly in her sleep, rustling wide awake in bed at night, disturbed by visions of her supposed otter BFF fucking the daylights out of that sweet desirable canine lover, clenching his thighs hard and milking his swollen knotted fox-cock dry of all known traces of semen. Jessie wanted more than anything to appeal to young Chris in the highest affectionate regard imaginable. He was her crush and hers only, her won-over male counterpart; the wolf and the fox, not the otter and the fox, there could be no outside interference. None whatsoever, insofar as she was concerned.
Jessie had dealt with the afflicted direct trauma of a twisted mutual partnership all her life throughout her upbringing. No thanks to her corrupt pedophile uncle, who molested and deflowered her when she was only ten years old. Thinking back upon her own biological father's imprisonment and harsh sentencing as a result (despite her undying love for him still, no matter how many years he'd wind up serving, Stockholm syndrome at its finest), young Jessie Sue yearned for Chris' unbridled love and compassion more than ever, having been denied access to true unfettered trust and stable companionship for so many long and winding tenacious years. 
To add insult to injury, Jessie Sue had also lost her mother to a tragically violent automobile accident at a young age, a slip-up that nearly decimated the young wolf-girl herself to a bloody pulp. As a result, Jessie had been raised by her uncle, only to be taught with drilling persistency to obey the power of The Lord Almighty - by living and engaging in a polygamous lifestyle in His name upon high. Her notions of courting the dream boy and handsome prince that all girls fantasized about became strained and sodden with time, pressure and her despicable uncle's cruel painful erections. Not to mention the righteous right hand of the LORD.
 She wouldn't be the one to admit this formidable secret openly to just anyone however, not even to herself; not as she laid back silently and felt her daddy's younger bro come in her youth with lurid trembling bliss for the very first time and then shamefully every other time afterwards for the next six years in utter privacy and absolute undisturbed silence, lacking any sense of passion or concern for her better health and well-being. A shameful, deplorable act of utterly contemptible behavior. Jessie Sue never wanted to be deemed an uncle-fucker by anybody. But there she was, pussy defiled by his girth, blood ringlets smothered against his knotted flesh-receptacle, moaning with his hand-paws gripping her head, licking her face, threatening to kill her and cut her up into pieces and burn her parts with gas and matches if she ever so hopes to tell anyone about how often she gets fucked by her fun-loving nipple-pinching anus-molesting uncle.
After having been raped multiple times many years prior to meeting both Alyssa and Christopher, Jessie Sue's self-esteem issues never truly recovered completely. As a result, she developed an obsessive complex when it came to gorgeous guys she deemed "perfect" in her own eyes, in her own life. She'd always been especially fond of those who housed a direct canine descent, most preferably foxes; attractive, luscious, beautiful "vulpes fulva" males with gorgeously slender features and perfectly adaptable personalities. When the subject of love and tender obsession came into play, Jessie always found difficulty in lending a reasonable response to its forbidden circumstances, uncertain over how to approach such raw untainted feelings that constantly ruptured her weak at her knees, heart and belly. True love had always remained an unbeknownst enigmatic mystery, an alien scourge of emotional corruption with no boundaries and no easy approach, even for a fair wolf-girl such as herself; the ideals spanning true love had always been a generous slice of unknowing to Jessie Sue. In the long run, if it all boiled down to protecting her better interests and keeping the peace among everyone else involved, then so be it. 
So be it.

Jessie Sue's vision returned gradually, welcoming his pale yellow eyes once more.
"You must call to them both. You must assemble them together in a location you see fit. You must gather them both. Only you can do this." The wolf said. A faint growl protruded from deep within its throat that sounded like no sound an average wolf should ever be compelled to make. Something hellishly croupy and hollow and ethereal, even otherworldly. A voice cast forth from hell, immersed within his own.
"Yes...I will." Jessie said, hypnotic and dazed. She felt like a volunteer under a magician's tent now, completely stripped of her own free will. She really wanted to masturbate all her frustrations away, desperately wanted to let the hunky feral wolf mount her rough and fuck her stupid whore brains out until he violently gnawed a large gashing hole into her neck and knotted her rigorously hard, ejaculating deep into her womb as blood sprayed against his orgasm-flushed face in gushing torrential fountains of crimson wetness and warmth, all in the name of love and lust and lasciviousness revealed upon high.
She reached for her cell phone and quickly tapped out a text message, all the while watching the figure from her bedroom's entrance. She never looked at the phone's screen once. She didn't want to. Her eyes were fixated on the very answer to all her life's worst intrepid problems and she didn't want to break her line of sight with...him...her...it.
"I must." Jessie said. The wolf's candor remained unchanged. 
With a mere swipe of the phone's screen, Jessie Sue sent the message. She smiled, nodded and proceeded to break the phone in half by slamming it against the wooden edge of her headboard, shattering it into multiple crumbling parts that rained down upon soft teal-shaded carpeted ground. Her hand-paw bled yet she paid no mind to the crimson pearls dropping down from her paw-padded palm. Her focus remained true to her strange new companion, this phantom menace bearing the physical appearance of her ancestral kin.
Jessie walked over to the wolf, knelt down in front of his paws and reached up to caress his dirty matted cheek, smothered with coarse tangled fur. The wolf nudged its muzzle against her forearm and embraced her gentle petting strokes. Her palm smeared blood on his muzzle in war-painted streaks as he licked her palm clean, tongue stained with crimson.
"So be it." Jessie said.
"Excellent, child."
"I know of the most perfect place as well."
"Good, child...very good."
"May I ask you... just one more thing first?"
"Anything."
	"Who are you, exactly?"
	The wolf chuckled light under his breath, appearing to grin with coy effulgence, eyes engulfed in sparkling flames. Another stroke of lightning penetrated the room with a boisterous flash, followed immediately by a grumble of thunder that could easily topple any foundation down to smithereens, no matter how reinforced. Jessie Sue hugged the wolf lovingly, trembling with fright and shivering cold.
"All in due time...child." The wolf said.
"Are you my father, reincarnated?" Jessie Sue pondered, rubbing at his mangy fur coat.
"Patience." The wolf snarled, huffing nonchalantly, causing Jessie to flinch.
So be it, she thought. So fucking be it. May God be with them? 
Perhaps.
Not likely, though, since there is no God.
Not after tonight's end, anyways.

	3.
The night grew far chillier than most recent evenings, cast under a pale christening full moon, glowing with vast esoteric luminescence. Chris and Alyssa, the two saucy lovebirds, enjoyed a shared mutual orgasm in the backseat of Alyssa's Range Rover behind the local co-op natural food market in their weary little forested Pacific Northwestern coastal town. 
After the initial waves of pleasure coursed its sordid path through both their lovemaking sensory factors, Chris reached for the glove box and opened the flap down to pull forth a small twisted white paper-lined object. Alyssa giggled and sighed passionately, rubbing the excess ejaculate from her pubic hair follicles and licking her dampened webbed fingers clean of the creamy white fox-jizz. 
Chris fished for a BIC lighter in his jeans and lit the opposing end of what turned out to be a tightly-rolled marijuana cigarette. As he primed it up with a few inhaled tokes, he breathed deep and got a whiff of smoke circulating in his lungs. Any after-sex smoke ensured his notoriety as a lady-killer in his insipid mind. He offered a toke to Alyssa, who flatly refused outright.
"No thanks, hon. Smoking that stuff will make you stupid, something I don't intend to become anytime soon. So thanks, but no way José."
"Fine, then! Be a prude. You weren't complaining earlier when I offered you my cock, at least. Now there’s something you can suck at for hours on end!"
"Sucking the cum from the tip of a sexy fox’s knotted penis and inhaling smoke from a hallucinogenic flowering bud wrapped in thin rolling paper...well, those are two very different vices to adhere to, are they not? And besides, it's not like I sucked you off just a little anyways. You should be so grateful, mister." Alyssa gently bopped his cold, wet nose with her thumb, issuing a dry popping sound from her lips.
	"Touché." Chris said, nodding with understanding.
As Alyssa licked her lips clean and dry, Chris' cellular phone vibrated and played a familiar tune: Closer, a Nine Inch Nails song which touched on the ideal prospects of fucking one like an animal while coping with a flawed existence. 
He'd programmed his phone to react in this manner voluntarily after receiving a text message from Jessie Sue exclusively. He couldn't figure out why the song reminded him so much of her, but it did. The loud blaring ring tone shocked Chris out of a pot-haze. He laughed like a hysterical maniac afterwards. Alyssa just rolled her eyes and pinched his nipple aggressively, causing him to brush her hand off his chest.
"Holy fuck! Sorry babe, I really should remember to turn that off when we do this. Christ on crooked crutches, damn thing scared the shit outta me!" Chris said. His breathing had been labored more significantly from the overwhelming passion shared in such confined quarters than from the small tightly-rolled stick of ganja he'd just burned, inhaled and held in for an extended duration. 
"You and me both, hon. I mean, you should've seen yourself jump!" Alyssa said. She kissed his chest while giggling softly and fondled his testicles as he reached for the small electronic device, flipped it open and read his newly-received text:

CHRISTOPHER: MEET ME @ 19547 GALLANTRY COURT. I'D LIKE 2 HAVE A HEART-2-HEART DISCUSSION W/ U. NO NEED 2 KNOCK JUST COME IN. BRING ALYSSA 2 PLEASE. TAKE CARE & DRIVE SAFE! -J.S.

"Interesting..." Chris said. He coughed in reaction to the smooth potency of his pot inhalation. Top-grade shit, by golly.
"Who’s that, hon?" Alyssa asked.
"Jessie Sue, your wolf friend. It's nothing, really... no big deal. I just got a text from her. She wants to meet with us at that old abandoned house down at the end of Gallantry. Why there of all places, I wonder? She even said that I can come in without knocking. Strange. You don't think..."
"Oh fuck." Alyssa said, shuddering nervously. "My God, you don't think she knows about us, do you?"
"Um, yeah, doubtful. I've always done well in covering my tracks, I'm sure. I don't post or share anything openly obvious around her, so as not to hurt her feeling too harshly or anything. I mean, you've noticed just as well as I have, no doubt that she's fallen for me, Alyssa. Plus isn't she like, special-ed or something?" Chris said.
"Autistic, you fucking medical brainiac." Alyssa scoffed at him impatiently.
"Oh, right." Chris said. He giggled a bit at his own naivety, smacking his forehead. 
And that's exactly why I don't smoke. Alyssa whispered beneath her breath.
"Huh?" Chris exclaimed. 
"Nothing. Anyways, that's one of the main reasons why she doesn't have very many friends. She abides in us quite often, you know? I'd hate to go behind her back like this all the time. She'd never forgive me. Especially not if she found out what we're really up to most of the ti-"
"Too late for that now, love. Unique as she may be, she's really just not for me as far as my own personal tastes are concerned. Now you, on the other hand..." Chris reached down and groped one of Alyssa's breasts with his joint-free hand-paw. She moaned softly and embraced his firm groping, then shook her head shamefully and pulled at his wrist.  
"This was a mistake. We shouldn't have come here. We shouldn't have kept on doing this... thing that we've been doing for so long. I fucked up big-time. She's my friend, for Chrissakes!" Alyssa said. A twinge of panic spiked into her heart. She hastily reached for her tube-top and jean shorts.
"Now hold on, Ally. She says right here that she only wants a heart-to-heart discussion, whatever that means. Nothing more, nothing less." Chris said, pointing at the brightly-illuminated LED cell screen. Alyssa sighed deep, exasperated and slightly panicked.
"She even mentioned you here. That's a good sign, right? I'd say she's still in the fog when it comes to our...y'know, our thing that we've had going on for some time now. Even if she didn't expect to see you... could be a fun sort of gathering! She might enjoy the pleasure of your company, who knows? Unexpected, sure, a bit of a random surprise, but-"
"What?!" Alyssa said with a twinge of unbelieving temper. "Now why would I do that, Chris? 'Perhaps she'd enjoy the pleasure of your company'? MY company?! Yeah, that and the fact that I'm a two-timing cheating cunt-of-a-friend?"
"No, that's not what I mea-"
"Yeah fucking right, dude! Just forget it, okay? This is between you and her, Chris. I'd rather not get too far involved in whatever fiasco she's got burning up her shirt-sleeves, okay? Dude. Seriously?" Alyssa said unbelievingly.
"Maybe this thing has been going on for far too long now...maybe what we both need to do is confront her and admit our ongoing adultery to her directly. What harm could that bring? We'd be clearing the air of any hidden grudges. Always a good thing to do! Let sleeping dogs lie, right? Bury the hatchet properly and any negative intensions along with it? We could just start over fresh."
"Yeah right dude, good luck inviting me to come along with you to a creepy-assed abandoned old suburban home on the very edge of the worst block in the neighborhood just to tell my BFF 'Hey Jessie Sue! Thought you'd like to know that we've been fucking like bunnies for a few years now so no harm no foul, right? Let's watch a movie and drink our transgressions away! Yee-haw! Fuck that loser-asshole Chris, we can just hang loose together and burn all our souls asunder! Ain't that a hoot?!' Yeah, fuuuuck that. This is between you and her. No exceptions. Don't you dare force me to get any more involved with your two-timing bullsh-"
Alyssa's phone lit up with a small ring and a notification revealing a new text message. She gasped silently, hand-paw held up, index finger pointing at Chris with accusing vitriol.
"Woah..." Alyssa said. She activated her phone to check for the new message. Alyssa's chipper upturned spirited expression took a nose-dive change into the polar opposite after bearing witness to what she'd received. Her face defined irresolute fear. 
Chris looked at her phone, grabbed it and pushed a green OK button upon its touch-pad surface to read what she'd received. Then his heart sank below his stomach and his eyes grew wide, twitching nervously. His inner body temperature must’ve dropped a good five to seven degrees instantly.
"So? What's it say, babe? Nothing from the IRS or anything, is it?" Alyssa asked. She laughed uneasily and her voice grew slightly higher-pitched as she felt a scourge of worry creep into her gut. No small talk could ever hope to rekindle this situation. An impending wave of panic threatened to claw its way out of her chest and skin her alive right then and there.
"Same thing mine says. She wants to meet up with us, Alyssa. She wants us to go to the old Gallantry Court house, for some damn reason or another." Chris rubbed his temples, swaying his head. "Oh my God, I must be tripping balls now. Damn!"
"Fucking… shit! How did she even get my n-" Alyssa said, then closed her gaping jaw and swished a wad of saliva to moisten her dried mouth, rinsing Chris' sperm down her throat as well. It tasted sickly-sweet with a faint hint of salted seafood. Delicious.
"We need to go to this...nineteen five forty-seven Gallantry Court tonight, like right now. No exceptions."
 "I'm way the fuck ahead of you. How did she even get my number?" Alyssa said, asking herself. She burped slightly after the oral rinsing then covered her mouth. "Excuse me."
	"You're excused. I dunno, maybe she got it from my phone? You never shared your cell number with your BFF? Damn, babe." Chris said, chuckling low. Alyssa shrugged, licking her lips and casting a deliciously coy glance his way. "Okay, so I'll slip on my pants and shirt so we can get the hell outta' Dodge...Jesus shit, I'm fucking stoned right now. Wowzers!" Chris said. His attitude changed on a dime. Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere else in the world but where he was right now, at that very moment. Maybe on a nice coastal beach. Knot-deep in Alyssa's otter-kitty.
	"Jeez, I hope she isn't too angry with us!" Alyssa said. A nervous shiver passed through her body along with a hollow barebacked insolence that bared its presence throughout her voice. 
"Would you blame her if she were, Alyssa? I mean, seriously? Fucking hell." Chris said. To this, Alyssa just stared at Chris, uncertain how to reply, slipping her clothing on as fast as possible while jostling a million thoughts at once in her mind, as disturbed as hell is scorching.
Alyssa saw their love affair crumbling away at its very foundation due to this unforeseen circumstance. Jessie Sue not only threatened to ruin her own intuitively troubled life, but the life of her friend and lover as well. A wallowing pocket of acidic panic remain subsided within Alyssa's gut, disintegrating into a tumor of raw carnage and misery. Chris started her vehicle, pulled the gearshift to Drive and took off without even casting a turn-signal. They headed toward the old abandoned Gallantry Court house to meet up with Jessie Sue. 

4.
Alyssa's Range Rover pulled up to the front of nineteen-four-fifty-seven Gallantry Court at quarter past ten on the very same chilly Sunday evening, parking across the street from the house itself. Chris lined the vehicle parallel to the curb, shutting off the headlights and pulling the vehicle's key free from the ignition, engaging the parking brake and handing the small ring of jangling brass key fobs back to Alyssa.
"Remind me to never let you drive stoned again, dude. I think I'm going to be sick to my...stomach! Urgh..." Alyssa said. She leaned back into her passenger's seat to catch a quick breather, stifling an ugly urge to gag aloud.
"Aw, jeez. Did I really drive that bad? Sorry, Ally." Chris said, rubbing his ears. He laughed at himself hysterically and then shut right up again; a sporadic pothead's giggle. He cleared his throat and gave an affirmed nod. "So is it true?"
"What?"
"You never actually gave Jessie Sue your cell number?"
"Of course not! Why would I do that if I'm sleazing around with her stud dick?"
"Ay caramba." Chris shook his head and sighed, truly exhausted. Alyssa chuckled and reached her hand-paw down beneath his briefs, fondling at his fuzzy sheath with tender care and a firm grasp. Chris moaned and refused to get erect, especially under such awkward circumstances. He pulled her hand-paw free from his pants and pried open the vehicle's door.
"Let's go!" Chris said with impatience.
"Fucking wait a spell." Alyssa said, rendered grumpy.
So they did...for a good five minutes or so. The streets were dead as dead could be. No headlights in sight from any direction, neither in front or back. The entire lot appeared abandoned on this fine evening. No barbecues, no front-porch poker games, no loud block parties with raving drunkards pacing aimlessly around the sidewalks looking for a moist tight hole to pound into. Nothing.
After Alyssa regained her strength well enough and sucked the last of the jizz from Chris' foxy groin pubes, they both stepped out from the Range Rover and traveled down a cracked concrete sidewalk that stretched far along the front of many large suburban housing developments.
Every home on Gallantry Court had been severely dilapidated from ill weather conditions and each garage was filled to capacity with vast assortments of junk, often times not even any vehicles. A variety of both human and anthropomorphic families resided within the confines of these hollow framed corporate shells, built of aluminum and plaster, glass and metal, porcelain and wood. Every home had been occupied...except for the one in which Jessie had wanted to meet them in.
Joy is me. Chris thought, frowning slightly, grimacing.
Alyssa busily scoped out the address in which Jessie had asked for her and Chris to meet at, exchanging a glance of uncertainty toward him. 
"So you think she'll have coffee brewed? Maybe over a late-night dinner? A good flick to watch afterwards? Seriously Chris... there isn't even any power in this shithole."
"I know that, Alyssa. I just don't know for sure though..." Chris said. He held his composure together as well as he knew how to under the circumstances given. All he wanted to do was fuck Alyssa some more and maybe snack on baked brie and crackers.
When he looked back at her, he noticed a small droplet of cum on her cheek that they'd somehow missed entirely. He put his hand-paws on her shoulders and leaned in to lick it clean. She moaned and gazed upon him with illustrious eyes of provoked desire. They kissed fondly beneath the moonlight as Chris slid the droplet of sperm against the roof of Alyssa's mouth, for safekeeping. After they'd finished their slobbery make-out session, Chris led Alyssa across the residential street, hand-paws held together.
Chris peered at the house, eyes squinting under a bright sodium-arc lamp. He'd initially intended to politely decline the invitation in the first place but when Jessie Sue insisted that Alyssa should come along as well, he immediately grew a fond interest in attending after all; a revealing get-together between just the three of them? Such a thing could either yield great results or a ton of heartache and he’d been actively pushing for the former.
"Where exactly did she ask us to meet her? Like, inside the house or at the house itself, on the porch?" Christopher asked Alyssa.
"Not too sure...don't see anyone around. Let's try the door, see if it's unlocked."
"Okay." He grabbed her webbed hand-paw, leading the way.
Chris and Alyssa trotted down a cemented curbside walkway illuminated by a dimly-lit streetlamp. Dozens of these large free-dangling lamps lay scattered across the residential boulevard. With hands held tight together and coats strewn over their shoulders to keep warm, Chris and Alyssa carried on. All the homes had their porch lights turned on and their doors padlocked shut so as to ward off any interested robbers or soliciting intruders. 
Gallantry Court's streetlamps all glowed softly with a couple flickering exceptions, dimming with bulbs buzzing from a faint hum of electricity. The neighborhood watch remained as heavily influenced as ever though, in many years standing there has never a fight or a drive-by or anything far too atrociously violent in this particular stretch of public residency. The neighbors in the lot considered themselves lucky to a thorough degree.
"I'm not too sure baby, perhaps we can scope out that note again, eh?" Alyssa said. A faint chill caused her to spasm with a twinge of shivers.
"You mean text?" Chris said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Fuck you, ya'know what I meant, smarty-pants."
"Sorry, babe."
"Forgiven." Alyssa said. She leaned into Chris' shoulder, nudging her wide pudgy otter-girl nose against his furry cheek tuft. He blushed beneath his goldenrod-orange fur. She wanted him badly, but also wanted to confront Jessie as well to break the ice and clear any openly-exposed grudges with the hopes of remaining upbeat, positive and free of any resurgent hostility. 
Alyssa knew that all men, both human and beast, were very asinine and practical creatures in assuasive invitations but didn't doubt that Christopher's timid lovesick wolf-girl (not to mention her falsely-inherited "friend") wanted to cause some form of harm to her otter livelihood. It didn't make matters any better or more reassuring that all this unfolding tension should be cast beneath a full moon; as such, Alyssa felt a natural uninhibited sense of impending dread lingering in the air.

Otter girls have always had a natural sixth sense.
They've always had a reoccurring tendency to develop a keener sense of predictability for the macabre and mundane then most any other species in the gene pool.
Alyssa always considered it as a naturally occurring third-eye foretelling. This is how she managed to survive for as long as she had done so up to now.
How she got through her oppressed Hawaiian Catholic school days, keeping her sanity intact even when the campus' headmaster priest solicited her quarters regularly every night with the surrogate intent to rape and sodomize her into a torrential stupefied daze; how she was able to conquer a long haul of conflicted drug abuse enabled by her older drug-dealing brother; how she managed to save her lower-class parents from a house fire only to witness her father suffer from a debilitating fatal heart attack upon glancing at the charred remains of their original family-established home that most deemed a "shanty-shack"; how she coped with witnessing her mother commit suicide by strangulation, dangling like a vine of ripened grapes from a noose strung upon a palm tree in reaction to her own father's passing; how she survived her confused and primordially awkward and troubled childhood intact.
No doubt, her fate and the many empathetic responses to her own life's melancholic complications had always been a matter of outright chance and predictability. Alyssa the otter-girl had always embraced the fastidious idea of anything remotely possible to occur without a moment's hesitation no matter how extreme or outlandish. She'd always housed this simple trait from within which has pertained to her overall noncommittal nature, thus making her a naturally solid level-headed otter girl.
Even if all the cards she'd been dealt from a past life of dread and misery hadn't quite paid out in full dividends; joker cards, tarot cards, fissures of imprinted death and abhorrent doom, the ill-conceived forbearers of a major flaw, a visibly disruptive chink upon the never-ending sheet of chain-mail strewn over the armor of life's upheld surrogate protection; all preordained to commence with unforeseen catastrophe. Alyssa had to become mentally and physically ready for anything, even if Chris himself wasn't. That had simply been his loss in the long run though. Every man, animal and in-between for itself; a philosophy that she could live with and die by. All in due time.
All in due time, child.

5.
They arrived at the flight of stairs that led upward to their destined location. 
This was the only home that lacked a visible porch light. Chris and Alyssa approached the dilapidated house together, hand-paws held tight together, breathing in a breeze of crisp cool evening air, footpaws smacking down lightly upon the weed-smothered sidewalk.
The house itself hadn't been up kept for years. Numerous integrated slabbed chunks of jaded green lawn had been long-since abandoned, exposing ugly patches of yellow and brown, smudged with mud-crusted granite and reoccurring clumps of animal droppings mixed in with large soil mounds. A pile of buck here, a cluster of jackrabbit there, a couple cat-bits and dog-bits scattered profusely.
A pair of wild rosebushes stood aligned besides one another leading up the main cement walkway that trailed towards the house, both tattered and laid to ruin, flower petals wilted, teeming with cobwebs and thin bristly twigs. A steady breeze blew through them, causing some of the twigs to whistle with a faint hollowed groaning. 
Christopher proceeded down the slim cement walkway first, holding Alyssa's webbed hand tightly in his own fox-pawed grip closely behind him, glancing with avid uncertainty around the front lawn. It was sprinkled with dry patches, plenty of weedy overgrowth.
The moonlight kept an opaque radiance intact, guiding their path towards the pitch-black front porch, a sprawling cedar verandah that wrapped halfway around the entire foundation of the home. A pre-applied coating of glossy weather-based primer beginning the earliest stages of expiration chipped and crinkled beneath the soles of their feet as the two illicit lovers proceeded up three steep inclined steps.
The porch itself lacked any furniture of any kind, not even a bench or a lawn chair to be seen. No yard maintenance tools, no tobacco spit cans; no material possessions. Not even an ashtray or a wad of chewed-up bubblegum could be seen upon any of the two-by-four planks adorning the topmost edges of the fenced-in barricade.
This address to which Jessie Sue had asked for them to meet at had been abandoned for many years, neglected from any forms of maintenance or repair, decrepit and hollow. It had simply become a large plastic shell, devoid of any traces of life. It must have been this way for what seemed like many years, perhaps even before both Chris and Alyssa's own lifetimes, perhaps even before their own parents.
"Is it safe to be here, you think?" Chris asked Alyssa with a trace of doubt.
"Beats me... seems like this place has been empty for years though. I mean, did you see that shitty-ass lawn? Like, totally run-down. I bet whoever owned this place before died awhile back or something."
"Maybe... this sucks. Thanks a fucking lot, Jessie Suzie-Q-Lu."
"That's right, blame my BFF for this." Alyssa smiled with a sarcastic grin, bopping her nose against his yellow-orange neck. He shook his head.
Chris smirked and looked away from her to peek into a large Venetian windowpane set in front of the building beside a large mahogany oak front door. He cupped his hand-paw and glanced around the interior of the home. Only a couple cellophane-wrapped sofas and an antiquated throw rug could be seen. This must had been the living room then. He thought it looked quite charming, if one had to resort to squatting to make a decent living.
The home itself featured expansive idyllic venetian blinds, various high-end paintings and exotic carpets adorning hardwood floors, mostly nestled in patches of deep shadow.
"Check the door, hon. See if it isn't locked."
"Sure thing commander, on the double!" Alyssa said. She mock-saluted him and held back a braying laugh. Chris smiled.
"Get to it then, soldier." Chris said. He pinched her breast as she walked toward the door. She slapped his wrist and giggled softly. Alyssa reached for the doorknob, knowing surely that it was locked and had been unopened for a number of years.
The door pried open before she could even touch the knob.

6.
Jessie Sue stood behind the door as it swung open inward.
The wolf-girl stared out at Chris and Alyssa with an expressionless gander. She possessed a committed glint in her eye with fists curled into balls of white-knuckled rage. Her ripped jeans sprouted tufts of wolfgirl fur from her knees that dangled in fuzzy patches and her black tank-top was smothered with wrinkles and lint. Surprisingly, very little canine fur follicles. She'd been keeping up with her brushing, no doubt.
"About time, guys. Thought you got lost or something!" Jessie said. Her voice rang out into the cold evening air with an echoing holler, causing a large chandelier suspended high above the living room's ceiling to chime. Up the street a couple blocks, a pack of stray dogs barked aloud from a nearby alleyway. A police siren wailed out from an unforeseen street corner, bright flashing strobes of red and blue coursing along the sky’s horizon. 
Alyssa jumped back and shrieked from the doorway, nearly falling off the porch backwards. Chris ran over from peeking through the large double-paned glass windowsill and met eyes with Jessie. They locked glances awkwardly for a few seconds before he managed to muster the inner tenacity to speak first, consoling a fright-numbed Alyssa.
"So, here we are, huh? Kind of a weird place to ask us both to meet up at, Jess. Is, um... everything okay?" Chris asked. He scratched the tuft of fur behind his ear, gauge dangling freely. Heart racing from excess nervousness. Jessie had them both fish-hooked by their septum edges.
"Just fine, Christopher. Sorry for scaring you, Ally. Come on in. Both of you."
"Okay..." Alyssa said. Her voice quivered as she nudged against Chris softly.
Jessie held the door open for them both to walk inside. When they entered, she shut the door behind them and locked the deadbolt behind her, illuminating a candelabra torch from a single lit match. Chris gulped aloud, larynx bobbing upon his throat.
"So... how have things been for you, dear? You feeling alright?" Alyssa said.
"Yes." Jessie said. Her voice was low, cross as a hearth stone. She shook the match out and threw it aside, tiny smoke trail coursing along above its traveling path.
"Good! That's just good..." Alyssa said. Her heart was beating off the charts.
	Why is it that this has to be so... awkward? She's our friend, for goodness' sake!
	"'Were', you mean." Jessie snarled. She held the torch up to eye-level, regarding both Alyssa and Chris with peering, concentrated eyes. A distant twinge of low-end lightning flashed through the living room. "Yes. You were my friend, before he came into the picture and… f-fucked things up!" Jessie exclaimed, pointing at Chris with a judgmental finger-paw.
	"I don't understand what you're talk-"
	"SHUT UP!!!" Jessie screamed aloud at Alyssa, rupturing a vein in her neck. The home shook upon its foundation, causing Chris to sway on his footpaws. He found a nearby chair and ran to it, taking a seat to help ease the vertigo sensation, face fraught with worry.
	"Hey, what just happened?! Earthquake? That can't be…"
	Alyssa's eyes widened and she looked up at the ceiling. The large crystallized chandelier swung like a humongous sparkling pendulum, nudged and shaken up extensively. Alyssa wondered exactly how strong a breeze could have caused the chandelier to rock and sway like that. Jessie Sue chuckled beneath her breath.
	"That wasn't a breeze, sweetheart. Now. I'd advise you to go sit down next to your fuck-toy and hear me out a spell." The wolf-girl said, pointing toward a chair next to Chris. An iron-framed chair with a cozy seat and backrest cushions, designer inspired and patio friendly. Plus there was even a small hole for tail insertion - the ultimate in anthro-bound comfort! Her brow cocked and she rubbed her chin as Jessie endured a brief Eureka moment. 
	"On second thought… let's try something different." Jessie Sue said, grinning coyly. She whistled twice and the sound of footsteps could be heard padding down a large wraparound staircase. When Chris and Alyssa caught sight of the feral wolf, they shrieked and yelped in a chaotic panic state before both fainting smack-dab down into a dead-heap. Jessie Sue laughed aloud, rubbing her hand-paws together with anticipatory preparation for the fun times to come.

	7.
	Chris, stripped nude and tied down to one of the two chairs, ball-gagged and blindfolded, attempted to break free from his bondage.
This only further inhabited Jessie Sue's anger though, causing her to tighten the binds on his wrists and ankles, nearly squeezing them off. His circulation dwindled as his paw-padded hand-paws and feet tingled for a moment then went completely dead, no feeling. His penis had been sucked for a bit, wolf-girl maw suspending downward upon its tender juicy thickness, its knotted girth, so naturally musky and firm and warm to the touch, before she grew tired of his incessant bullshit and lies. 
She spat his penis out upon his belly and proceeded to violently gnaw his testicles free from his groin. 
A high-pitched wailing yelp cried out from behind his ball-gag as Christopher watched his very own livelihood be mauled and devoured before his very eyes by the same young wolf-girl who he'd defiled and shat upon emotionally, only to be made an unfortunate victim of profound circumstantial karma. Like a wheel, what goes around always must come around. 
He ejaculated a mix of semen and blood upon his chest when she finally pulled his orbs free, twirling them in her hand-paws like Baoding balls. She stood over the blindfolded fox, torrents of blood gushing freely from his crotch like a tiny crimson cocktail fountain and snarled with a sick, morbid pleasure. She licked one of the testicles, savoring its sweaty aroma, before throwing them against a nearby wall, both nuts exploding into pasty wads of croupy flesh and vein-tangled fox detritus.
	Alyssa, pinned to the floor on her hand-paws and knees, straps hammered down into the hardwood paneled flooring then wrapped tightly around her knees and elbows, tried to fight off a cramp forming in her thigh. 
Her tail, always provisional and ideal for maintaining balance and stability while dredging through high surf at Cannon Beach during better times with Chris, now hung upright by a meat-hook plunged through the center of its slickened fleshy surface, suspended above the ground with long links of metal chain wrapped around nearby structural support pillars, a mutual blessing in disguise. 
A long strand of rope had been wrapped tightly around Alyssa's head, binding her muzzle open, extending her jaw forcefully. Drool leaked from the rope as the otter-girl tried to move her thigh a bit, feeling the cramp deepening and growing worse. She wouldn't be moving very much though, for her leg was bound in place by the large ghastly feral wolf inhabiting her blood-slickened vagina and anus (known in the furry subculture as a "tailhole") simultaneously, knotting and raping her viciously with limited restraint. 
The wolf, covered in patches of gangrene and filth, fur matted and clumped in thicker spots, coat ragged with grime, adorning cuts and wounds across its malnourished body, barked and snarled aloud, forcing a nearby framed photograph's glass cover to shatter, cutting the picture of a vixen-woman embracing her young cub within. 
Alyssa shrieked through the rope, horrified for her life, as the wolf's front paws swung forward and slammed deep into the otter-girl's hips, tearing claw-marks through her fur, cutting her skin with his long robust wolf nails. He gripped against her waist and thrust his knotted dick into her snare-tight otter-girl asshole, humping into her with reckless abandon. She screamed through the rope, enraged and reluctantly aroused. She felt her pussy tremble and spasm, enduring an anal-provoked orgasm, blood interspersed with seminal fluid.
With profound hatred for Jessie, Alyssa's supposed BFF wolf-bitch, the otter-girl's tolerance dwindled beyond all measure as she attempted to bear the horrific pain of her mutilated tail and the ugly zombie wolf knotting itself into her pussy and ass. She felt like her cunt was being torn apart by a fur-smothered broom handle. The wolf showed no mercy whatsoever, raping and sodomizing her cruelly and with no end in sight. He clamped his jaws down around her neck and squeezed his grip tight, pulling her skin taut, forcing her to gag and choke as she came hard repeatedly.
Prior to any warning, the wolf gnawed a hole into Alyssa's nape, tearing and ripping away at a small chunk of her flesh. She screamed bloody murder when he actually finally managed to pull the chunk of her neck free, jugular vein torn open, spraying her neck with warmth. The wolf salivated over her breast and shoulder as he licked and lapped at the piece of meat, gnawing it with an indelible hunger while cumming deep inside Alyssa's vagina, torn asunder by both the feral creature's muscular jaws, razor-sharp ivory-toned teeth… and his massive bulbous vein-smothered dog-knotted penis. 

8.
	Jessie Sue strolled casually between the two of them, large razor-tipped whip in her hand-paw, twirling it in figure-eight motions around her body. The rain fell dense with a solid vengeance, pummeling down hard upon the roof of the dilapidated house, flooding the gutters and pattering against the windows outside with vibrant repetition. 
"Nice night, isn't it?" Jessie Sue said to no one in particular. A small battery-powered transistor radio was tuned into a classic music station, playing some epic sweeping ballad by some grand virtuoso composer or another. Chris wept and shrieked through his ball-gag, shaking his head and struggling to break free from the chair. His legs felt weak and powerless, no thanks to the significant loss of blood. 
After she'd bitten his balls off, Jessie Sue also opted to carve one of his ears free from his head and feed it to the wolf who had been fucking his otter mistress and her former friend, no longer. The wolf fed on the ear passively, low curling growls nestled beneath slobbery hunger-induced panting, while Jessie Sue hammered railroad spikes through Alyssa's webbed otter feet and hand-paws, crucifixion-style. The hungry wolf's tail twitched and wagged while he consumed Chris's cartilage, savoring the spicy flavors, knot buried deep in Alyssa's blood-swollen otter-cunt while Jessie Sue worked like a wolf-woman on a personal mission.
	When he swallowed the ragged clump of ear at last, the wolf yanked himself free from Alyssa with an audible pop, body pinned down like a lab specimen in a petri dish. A trail of jizz and blood dripped freely from his penis as the feral wolf walked slowly up to Chris, possessing a speed no quicker than flowing honey. The feral creature came to a perfectly frozen stance in front of him. Chris heard a voice emanate from the canine's pale yellow eyes. Not its throat, this wolf hadn't directly spoken to him. He felt the voice of the wolf from within, not through his ears but through his inner-subconscious, like an imaginary friend who won't shut up, no matter how hard one wishes for it to be silent.
	"Terribly sorry about this unfortunate mess of circumstance which you've been directly thrust into, young Christopher… but you must understand that this is all for your own good. You did a bad thing by going behind her back. My beloved Jessie Sue didn't deserve any of that. Now you get what you deserve, you and your manipulative heartless tramp of a slut. Happy trails, you dick-less whore-fucker. May the Gods upon high see fit to curse your lineage with a relentless cancer streak for generations to come? I do declare." The wolf snarled, runnels of wolf-spit leaking down from the corners of its blackened lips, drool ropes touching down to the floor between his large paws, nails sharp as cat's claws. His erect dog-cock dripped with red and white fluids, vein-adorned and bulbous, still exposed and freed from his sheath.
	Chris' eyes grew wide and he shook his head, face crumpling into a rictus of dire pain. The wolf lunged forward and clenched his jaws down hard upon the base of Chris' knotted dick, chin submerged in a stream of testicular blood-flow. Jessie Sue's feral savior bit down hard and violently shook his head, ripping Christopher's penis free from the stem of its vascular tube, castrating the fox-guy with alarming efficiency. 
The wolf ran over to Alyssa with Chris's disembodied penis in his mouth, jaws clamped down around girth-laden fox-flesh, forming a long stream of bloody droplets beneath a trail of wolf paw-prints. The wolf ran and with a rushing head-start, angled his head to drive the decapitated penis into Alyssa's wolf-dick-ravaged vagina. It plunged in with limited restraint, knot and all, squelching with noisy resistance. When the entire dick slid into the otter-girl's pussy, she screamed and screamed through her rope restraints, iron-tasting tongue struggling for air, breathing with extreme haste in and out of her nostrils, both bloody from being whipped and kicked by Jessie Sue.
When Chris' mangled genitals slid free from Alyssa's blood-drenched, labia-torn twat and landed on the hardwood floor with a sickening splat, Alyssa vomited. Jessie Sue shook her head and rolled her eyes as she removed a small switchblade from her pocket and walked casually over to Alyssa, carving the rope loose from her head, kicking the decapitated penis out of the way, into an unforeseen dark corner of the living room. The strands of rope fell free and puke flowed in a trap of sudden explosive leakage from her gaping maw. The stench reeked of raw undercooked ham and stale wheat noodles, enough to cause the feral wolf himself to gag profusely at the gut-wrenching rancid festering gruel, sweltering and cloying and pervasive to all of one's senses.
And the rain continued to patter against the windows, flooding the sills from outside, dredging the puddles surrounding the decrepit Gallantry Court house of horrors. No other porch light remained lit, not after-hours. The street was a dead hub, a torrent of rainfall and darkness.
Utter perfection.

	9.
Jessie Sue giggled and swayed her hips, walking in a sultry manner towards Chris, now half-conscious and barely alive. She drove the machete into his kneecap with a hollow ghastly thump and he shrieked. The wolf-girl removed the ball-gag from his mouth and hoisted herself upon his face, jeans unzipped and pulled down, cotton panties pushed down as well. Her wolf-girl vagina, pink flesh tucked gently beneath a mound of silver pubic fur, throbbed and leaked with a hint of ecstatic filmy moisture, dampening the ringlets of her tailhole, so heated and in dire need of fox knot. Her clitoris brushed against his snout, forcing her to moan aloud and clench her groin tight, sweeping sensations of raw bliss tickling her brain, filmy and warm.
She'd been dreaming of this moment for so long and now she was finally about to get it. Christopher's cunnilingus efforts wouldn't go unappreciated, even if he lacked the junk to return any square favors, no thanks to her aggressive feral counterpoint. Jessie Sue rammed his muzzle into her spread-open pussy and humped herself against his head, driving his nose deeper, wedging his teeth into her folds with rough incandescent pleasure. She braced a spike of sudden outlandish erotic friction that grew and sweltered into an explosive miasma of orgasmic satisfaction which coursed through her body, tingling her toe-paws and finger-paws alike, head swimming in squirming ecstasy, heart racing and breathing in panting gasps and howling yelps. She thrust his head against her groin, burying his muzzle into her saliva-lubricated wolf-girl oyster, ascertaining very strong Bad Dragon vibes.
	At some point during Jessie Sue's masturbatory face-fucking session, Chris ceased to exist. She didn't realize that he'd already died from shock, so she took solace and pleasure in the comforts of necrophilia without ever even realizing it fully. When she did come around and discover his passing, she screamed with maniacal grieving agony and slammed her fists against her thighs in a fury of tantrum, practically breaking her wrist bones. The house rocked upon its foundation again, far more violently than before. 
She didn't want him to die so soon, so suddenly. Not without legitimately getting her off first. Such a shame. A damn, crying shame. Jessie Sue wept as she reached into a nearby bucket that had been placed upon the floor beside Chris's corpse. In it, she grabbed a small tube of lighter fluid. She popped the cap free from the container and doused Chris' ravaged genital-free body, making sure every square inch of his carcass flooded with the chemical-scented liquid. Jessie Sue wept pitifully as she grabbed for a book of matches in her jean pocket, bending down to reach for it, then lit one aflame and tossed it at Chris' feet. His body immediately caught on fire. A massive pyre of bellowing flame and smoke brandished and danced upon the fox's body, scorching his fur into curling wisps of ash. His eyes popped free from his head in a goopy fire-hot mess while most of his internal organs burst from extensive heat, some even sliding out of the freshly-torn hole beneath his belly, where his corruptible penis once held sway, no longer. The flames licked and lapped at his flesh, charring his body immeasurably. The glow could be seen for miles, had they not been indoors.
	
10.
The feral wolf re-mounted Alyssa.
Without a moment's hesitation, he proceeded to rape her wildly in a missionary position, penis plunging into her ruined bloody otter-pussy. Alyssa's tail had ripped free from the meat-hook and now hung at a disadvantaged, crooked angle upon its base. It reminded Jessie Sue of the feral wolf's rear leg. A demeaning sight, at best. 
This didn't stop the feral wolf himself from pounding into her mercilessly though. Her feet and wrists bled uncontrollably after being ripped free from the railroad spikes by Jessie Sue, who twirled her body into a new position for the wolf to have at her in. The feral wolf bit one of Alyssa's breasts aggressively, drawing blood, slurping and chomping down on her nipple and growling aloud while thrusting his thickened wolf-knot deeper into her pussy with every delirious lust-driven hump. Alyssa screamed through a mouth coated in vomit and blood, making the simple act of breathing a challenge. Jessie Sue whipped at her face, carving gash after gash into her gorgeous features. Tearing an eyelid, ripping a lip, piercing a nostril, puncturing an eyeball, tearing free one of her ear gauges - none of it even mattered to the wolf-girl anymore. 
"YOU WANTED HIM THAT BAD?! FUCK YOU, HAVE HIM!! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!! YOU'RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER!! FUCKING PERFECT!!" Jessie Sue screamed from the bottom of her lungs. Alyssa had worn out her warm welcome and now look at what had become of her... a mere abused fuck-toy to Jessie Sue's demonic surrogate feral partner in crime and murder. Jessie Sue felt a liberating sense of swift vengeance course through her spirit as she continued to ravage Alyssa's pretty otter face with the nail-studded whip. Blood droplets splashed up in petite red sunbursts from Alyssa's gaping wounds, peppering Jessie Sue's wolf-girl muzzle with tiny crimson orbs, along with a couple small streaks adorning her cheek and forehead and a single drop leaking down her neck, leaving behind a red-rimmed trail. She looked like a butcher with no fear and no fucks given.
"YOU RUINED MY FUCKING LIFE YOU FUCK! YOU CUNT! YOU WASTE! GODDAM FUCKING WASTED ALL MY TIME TO SHOW HIM HOW MUCH I CARED AND FOR WHAT?! FOR WHAAAAT, DAMN YOU?! TELL ME!! ANSWER ME!!!!"
Alyssa's ruined face smashed into the floor as she endured another swift string of multiple orgasms, squirting an ugly bile-colored phlegmy substance from her vagina. She was practically dead, beyond dehydrated and severely lacking residual blood flow. Her heart was on the verge of imploding upon itself. Jessie Sue helped expedite the process a bit. She picked up a ballpeen hammer from the ground, grabbed for a hefty clump of Alyssa's hair, pulled her head up close and whacked the sharp end of the hammer against Alyssa's forehead once, twice, three and four and five more times and so on.
"FUCK YOU! BITCH! FUCK! CUNT! WHORE! SLUT! FUCK! YOU FUCK!!! GODDAM DIE ALREADY! FUCKING DIE! EAT MY FOX'S DICK, WHY DON'T YOU?!" Jessie Sue bellowed into the evening, echoing throughout the confines of the old abandoned house. If anyone else had been awake to eavesdrop upon Gallantry Court's finest locale, they'd be calling the cops by now to report a serial murder.
The feral wolf continued to thrust into Alyssa's ragdoll-limp body with brute animalistic force, even as the mass of flesh and bone twitched and trembled in the midst of cranial-blow-induced shock trauma caused by a very disturbed Jessie Sue. Alyssa's otter forehead caved in like a melon dropped from a high-rise building as the wolf-girl pummeled her head and face with the small weapon of choice, business end glinting softly under a nearby fluorescent bulb, spattered with bloodied clots of hair and bone fragments.
After Jessie Sue had her fill, she threw the hammer down to the ground beside her. She knelt low and proceeded to urinate on the cratered-in unrecognizable face of Alyssa's mutilated corpse. After she'd pinched off the last of her urine, ensuring her bladder was well-drained, she ordered the wolf to consume the rest of the bitch, even have at it with her body a little if he so desired, never mind that one cannot hope to distinguish her facial features any longer.
Jessie Sue walked over to Chris… or what was left of him. His body had become an intaglio of flame-scorched destruction, reduced to a mere clumpy pelt of ashen fur and charred fleshy remains. She reached out and grabbed at his muzzle, attempting to turn his head. Her hand-paws crumpled around paper-like bundles of burnt skin and flesh. She felt the bone structure clearly upon the snout of his skull through the ashen remains. A gelatinous substance suggested cartilage from his nose, maybe even a significant portion of his own cranial matter.
Jessie Sue grimaced as she tilted the chair over, causing the extra-crispy fox's body to fall down to the side. When Chris's burnt corpse landed upon the hardwood floor, a large billowy pile of ash poured out from the beneath point of impact in all directions, rendering his decrepit corpse into a heap of blackened bone and burnt sordid remains, canine debris. The only way to determine if he was even a fox at all was through his teeth, practically untouched by the scorching flames. Everything else had been obliterated in the dire heat.

11.
"This is terrible. I can't believe it all came down to this." Jessie Sue said, whimpering through eyes flooding with tears of resplendent sadness. She glanced back at the feral wolf and cringed slightly at the sight of him pounding into Alyssa's now-beheaded body mercilessly while feasting on her innards through her navel, body splayed and fully exposed, one boob ripped completely off her chest. Her pale, swollen face, eyes twin orbs of glossy decomposition, stared in a frozen death-sculpt back at the wolf-girl, Alyssa's supposed BFF, head laying steadily at a crooked decapitated angle. The otter had been subjected to a mere gory heap of-
"Look what you made me do, bitch. You happy now?" Jessie Sue said to Alyssa's ravaged wolf-raped corpse. She reached down and grabbed for the container of lighter fluid, hesitating for a moment, briefly reconsidering her options, rethinking her plans… then shook her head dismissively and proceeded to uncap the container. She doused the flammable liquid substance on herself instead of Alyssa's remains, practically taking a shower in it. Jessie Sue's wolf accomplice to hell and back yelped and pulled his large knotted dick out of the otter-girl's ice-cold pussy, snapping a tear into the corpse's clitoral hood, projecting a thin filmy fluid that reeked of bitter vinegary urine.
The wolf ran up to Jessie Sue, sniffing at her hand-paws, trying to dissuade her from continuing onward. Jessie Sue knelt down and kissed his gorgeous feral wolf nose, thanking him for showing her all she ever wished to know. She burst into tears and curled inward, shaking and hitching her breaths violently, sobbing hard and heavy. The wolf cradled his forehead up against hers, front paws pressing against her own fur-smothered wrists. Then she whipped out her box of matches from her jean pocket, lit one and set the entire book aflame. She stood upright with a stone-cold expression, staring directly forward at absolutely nothing. The wolf barked with savage repetition, even considering head-butting his niece to dissuade her of her actions.
Some things were best left alone though.
Jessie Sue pressed the flaming book to her chest
(my heart for you he was never mine to keep oh how the gods act with such disdain)
	and set herself on fire. Jessie's feral wolf lover and uncle wailed aloud, nostrils sprinkled in a familiar teal-hued powder.
The glow illuminated the entire living room, practically the whole house. A blinding fury of raging hellfire inferno blazed relentlessly against Jessie Sue's body. Her fur shriveled and crumpled into large dense heaps of sodden ash, whiskers twisting into onyx husks as she resisted the will and urge to scream aloud. She instead opted to bite down on her tongue, eventually gnawing it clean off. She had no lips to bite for they'd all been burnt to a crisp. She could feel the liquid flammable substance course through her fur, increasing the temperature of her body significantly. When she inhaled, her lungs filled up with smoke.
When Jessie Sue's frail, brittle legs couldn't take the weight of her body under such a horrific heated environment, they snapped like twigs held over a campfire for too long and her body crashed down onto the floor with a deafening thump. Her legs tottered upright for a brief second before flopping over, toes wriggling slightly through the fierce licking flames of heat. Her feral wolf redeemer reared his head upright, angled his chin with the rest of his body and let loose with an enormous undulating howl, a remarkable bellowing feral cry of savage ripe grievance, a howl that triggered off dozens of nearby feral animals in conjunction. 
The wolf leaned in close to Jessie Sue's side and licked at her cheek lovingly as he too was set aflame, tail wagging off embers of glowing burnt fur. He whined and yipped as he felt the fire intruding upon his frail body, grilling free exposed patches of psoriasis-inhibited skin to a crisp. Jessie Sue reached out blindly and wrapped her burning arms around his neck, hugging him in a final desperate embrace. He nestled his body close to hers as the fire spread, setting furniture and more aflame, spewing forth embers into the onyx-black evening, thy will be done.

12.
The house itself caved in hours later, after the fire spread throughout the dried-out dilapidated building. Two local neighborhood stoners made the initial call to nine-one-one emergency dispatch, as shown in the following transcript:
[ringing phone, preceded by a click, heavy breathing]
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Duuude! There's a huuge fire down Gallantry Court way! Bring the fiiire fiiighterrrs, man!!!"
"Where is your location, sir?"
"Gallantry Court! Y'know, the big-ass slice of suburbia? Good vibes, man. Swimming pools, wolf-bitches in bikinis, potent weed-"
"Sir, is there an emergency in your immediate vicinity?"
"Uh, does that mean area or something?"
"Yes, sir. Is there a fire in your area?"
"Hell fuckin' yeah! A big one too!" 
"We have you listed at 13426 Gallantry, is this correct?"
"Yeah, the house is next door, man. Its burning like crazy! Damn, I hope there ain't nobody in there because they're fuuuucked if so, man. [hysterical laughter]"
"We're sending units out right now to help fight and extinguish the blaze. Please remain in your home until the worst is over, if you can."
"I'll try, but no guarantees. The night is young and I hear the echoing call of pussy, crying out to me, man! Gotta heed the call, ya dig?"
"Certainly, and you have a safe evening, sir."
"Likewise, pretty lady."
[Click - end of transmission]

Neighbors called in by the dozens, shocked beyond compare at losing good ol' Uncle Pete's prized summer home. Over the years, Peter the Wolf (as most would refer to him by) had developed an influential presence over Gallantry Court and its many residents. Jessie Sue opted to keep her confrontation with Chris and Alyssa all in the family, choosing to meet at her uncle's old home, a justified location and as good a place as any to murder her Judaic posse in flame-drenched style. Jessie Sue couldn't have settled for a final grave site to put her miseries to rest at long last. 
Luckily the gas had been shut off for years so there was limited risk of any ugly explosions, unlike that insane Harper Mills lumber rave incident that even to this day still has furs talking and remembering.

Their carcasses took months to exhume on account of extreme damage caused by fourth-degree burns. Private burial plans were made and soon, they were regarded as mere names on a headstone… Christopher and Alyssa, jilted lovers betrayed to the grave. They were given memorial services, celebrations of life, plenty of eulogies and sympathetic cards by the dozen. Both the families of Chris and Alyssa gathered in mourning, reminiscing of their good deeds, their swell intentions, their life justifiably led by example.
Nobody mentioned their tenebrous love affair, Alyssa's contrite slutty endeavors, how she got paid by drunkards to get fucked and knotted for hours by a doberman in a local pier or Chris's pedophilic tendencies. His phone was smothered in cub porn upon initial inspection by forensic investigators working on-site at the Gallantry Court crime scene. Pictures of young, undeveloped virgin sex trafficking victims, raped and sodomized and abused in a multitude of ways, sexual and verbal, emotional and physical. Chris ran one of the most proficient and active cub-porn rings in the greater Pacific Northwest region for over ten years, ever since he first discovered how good it felt to slide his own erection into his preadolescent niece in a swimming pool at a family BBQ, many years prior, drawing blood rivulets in the water and tears upon her eyelids, bitter and resentful.
Good riddance, as most would say.

Jessie Sue and her feral wolf uncle, a long-time Feral Times junkie, were unanimously disposed of in a landfill, among the carcasses of dogs that had been put down in local vets statewide and strays disposed of in local pounds. Most would call that an obligatory "fuck you" moment. Jessie Sue, lips stapled and eyes sewn shut, buried amongst stray fodder, deprived of a civil burial, thrown into a shambling heap of skin, fur and bones alongside the man who'd deprived her of a suitable childhood.
If she had lived, if by some God-forsaken abysmal curse of chance and fate the fire didn't kill Jessie Sue, only wounded her extensively, then her final thoughts prior to suffocating in a cess-pool of filth, surrounded by feral canine corpses, beaten and burdened with the lives of her uncle and surrogate lover pervading her thoughts, ruining her soul from within, would've been a simple one.
So be it.
All in due time… 

~

Coda.
	Life is like a large rotating gear of change. 
When it rolls into place at the right moment and connects with other gears, that's when karma, in all her profound atrocities, will be bound to reveal ugly backfired intentions upon unwilling victims, thus hindering the machine as a whole.
So be it.

END
3/15/14 ~ 6/11/18