The Love we Hide (Gay Furry Romance/Thriller story) MA15+

C2P18 - Ready

Twig couldn't help but feel guilty. Although most of him knew that the whole thing was nowhere near his fault. His thoughts kept coming back to Rust, and in how much danger he was. The way Twig saw it, if the figure in the maddened hyena in the white mask hadn't already killed him, then the wolf in the baseball helmet surely would, after all, it was Twig who had told the wolf Rust's location in the first place.

And then there was Mike, the proud and dominant lion riding with the disguising pig of a cat who had dubbed herself Lavender, in Twig's parent's car. When they got there who knows what would happen, would they just let Rust starve and die? Or would they kill him themselves to dispose of the evidence?

Either way, none of it wasn't fair, none of it was, it wasn't fair for either him nor Rust, and he knew that both of their fates could have been stopped by him if he were simply to make the right choice.

The green reptile paced across the marble floors of his garage, mumbling himself every now and then as he gestured back and forth with Mike's gun in his hand as if he were about to interview to join some kind of gang.

"Fuck." He said for the fourth time since the beginning of his mental rant. In his mind, he didn't even know that he had said it. His mind only thought of the world as in the garage in which he was pacing and the facility in which Rust was being held captive.

'Because of me' he added dully.

Despite everything the gun felt good in his claws for some reason, he felt like he was able to make a choice despite being so far away from it. Isn't that what guns did anyway? They sealed the fate of someone's life by the simple squeeze of someone's paw, yet the torturer, the wolf, nor Mike needed such a weapon to make that choice.

They were already squeezing that trigger as hard as they could.

"Excuse me, young sir?" I crooked voice said from just outside the garage.

Twig was snapped from his thoughts at the presence and he quickly stuffed the gun down the waist of his pants for concealment.

His stressed green eyes locked onto an old red owl standing outside in the sunset sun.

"Yes?" Twig addressed politely, walking up to approach the owl. If he hadn't been snatched from his deluded thoughts, he certainly would have been thankful for the distraction.

The owl held out a shaky claw and in that claw lay the keys to a motorbike that was sitting just beside Twig's garage. It was an old and worn-out thing, used very little, which belonged to his neighbours just next door, although the house was connected to his.

"Thanks for letting my son use the bike, it got a bit dented, but nothings perfect." The owl chuckled.

"You mean my neighbour, I think you'll need to go next door sorry," Twig said with a dismissive smile. A smile he wore so well with conversations to Mike and Lavender.

The owl winced his wise eyes a little, not so much pain but in confusion, and he lifted the other claw up to his ear.

"I'm sorry but can you please speak up a little son?" He asked.

Twig opened his mouth with frustration to repeat the statement when an idea sprung into his mind like a delayed firework.

"Sorry, I said thanks for the bike back. Have a nice day sir."

A little spark in Twig flared up, something very unusual indeed. He felt the feeling that he had just done something wrong, something mean and despicable, yet it felt a little good.

He chuckled to himself as he took the keys from the owl, it no wonder he felt so rebellious with the years of the constant cycle of listen and obey with the gang who he had so desperately clung with. The serotonin was taking over his mind, giving him a wave of long-needed confidence.

He waved the owl off and trotted out of his garage and sat down onto the crooked and spring-bent seat of his neighbour's motorbike, he would only be borrowing it for a bit. Anyways, it wasn't like he was going to be stealing it permanently or anything, he was simply borrowing it. Borrowing it without consent from his neighbours, perfectly fine.

"Fuck you, Lavender." He muttered as he slotted the key into the bike and listened to the roar of the ignition. A helmet lay hooked across the side of the left pedal and he kicked it out without hesitation. Now wasn't the time to be safe, it was time to save a life.

Twig felt his claw reach down and feel for the fun hooked in his belt and adjusted it a little bit so it wasn't pressing down on his leg, it felt nice to the touch, like power, the power to make a choice that mattered. He hadn't driven a motorbike in a while, the last time he did was when he took one of the ones in the park in primary school to get away from the bullies that were on hot pursuit. But it was different now, this time he wouldn't run away scared, he would be running towards the danger to do what was right.

"And fuck you, Mike." And with that, he rode full speed into the sunset. Eyes squinting yet determined with the dust from the road, fangs bent into a snarl of rage towards those who had wronged him.

As if it were clockwork, 'Pumped Up Kicks' made itself present on the shabby radio on the bike.

I'm posting this sooner than I usually would as like... A final bit of calm before the storm thats coming up. Because shit is gonna get fucking nuts after this. Some insane, die-hard fuck-fest of crazy stuff.
So, I'll see you cool-cats on the other side.                        - Nuz