Generation Fur

Chapter 1

"Wake up you stupid, pathetic lowlife scum" this was the wake up call I had gotten for the past four years now. The other two that came with me died the first two months here, one after the other. Number one died during one of their events, ripped apart by their teeth and claws during a 'Hunt.' The event that they make their new Furs go through as a rite of passage. I hid in a tree until morning when it was safe enough to get to my bed without the fear of being torn apart too.

Number two died during one of their fighting drills, we were surprised to fight one of the new Furs trying to become soldiers and if we lasted an hour we were safe. He got through a half hour and then the newbie turned savage and caught his throat with his claws, he watched me with a cut throat and pleading eyes as he died there in front of me. When it was my turn I did my best to evade all of their attacks, sucking, jumping, leaping, running, anything I could to get away from their claws and teeth.

Then I did something that they didn't like, it started a week ago, when I was carrying a basket of rocks up and down a mountain with the other Furs, who had half as much weight and were still breathing hard, if not harder than I was. I finished before any of them, and once I set my bag of rocks down then head soldiers in charge of watching me dragged me off to a dark black brick building with a heavy metal door. Once inside, I was thrown to the floor and chained to something, and the soldier left, and didn't come back until a day and a half later. And after that happened I could seem to do anything right, or good enough.

Yesterday was my last day of recovery, slightly less work than the others, and a little more food and water. Then it went to half rations, this would be my second day of half rations. One of the Wolf Fur Soldiers came to my home with my set of rations for the day.

"What are you doing number three?!" The Wolf Fur dropped the tray as he grabbed me and shoved my face down towards my food. "Eat" he growled into my ear.

I ate like that, with him pushing my face into my tray and nothing to grab the food with but my fingers and tongue. He didn't wait for me to finish, he just kicked away the tray when he had seen that I had eaten a decent amount of it, hauled me up, and threw me into the bathroom with the command to 'clean up'.

I quickly rubbed my face of food and grabbed a shirt from the second pile I made in the bathroom over time. A just in case thing so that I wouldn't have to work without pants or a shirt if this happened again, I learned this the hard way, as it happened a lot.

I didn't get the chance to pull up the memory, and I was glad of that because it wasn't exactly a pleasant one. The soldier that threw me in here rushed in and grabbed me again, pulling me out of the bathroom and dragging me outside where a formation of five by four lines of troops marched down the street. I was pushed forwards, actually I was dragged forwards really, and I was barely able to actually put my shirt on before a bag was shoved onto me and I was forced into the empty spot of the formation.

"You're gonna pay for being late" the leader of the squadron said as he drifted back to my spot in the row. I just huffed and grumbled 'happy eighteenth birthday Daniel' to myself and the squadron leader looked at me for a second with a slight glare before stalking up to the front of the line and turning the marching into a slow jog. The soldier in-front of me kept whacking me with his tail, seemingly as hard as possible too. The owner of the tail looking back at me like they didn't know that I was there, and then grinning like the ass they all were to me.

We kept at the jog for a good hour and when we finally stopped a couple of the Furs dropped to their hands and knees, I continued to stand straight and un-bothered, as I've learned to, and I would have no problems from anyone. Then I noticed where we were, we were at the shooting range, there were long range rifles and assault rifles all lines up in a row. We were all put in a station, with two rifles in each section.