Chapter 1: The Downfall

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An all black truck drove down a quiet road with some light snowfall. John, the driver, a young man with short hair and a well trimmed black beard, a fit physique, was listening to the truck's radio on the news channel, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically out of his boredom.

"This just in, it would seem that the furs have started to... change? Get this, some dangerous creatures have been found by law enforcement and tested positive for fur DNA, is this a new attempt at rebellion like the last countless times? Or have furs started to revert to their natural, animalistic ways? Nobody knows at this time, but Governments inform us not to worry and that everything is under control, we will update you as this story develops." Spoke a news reporter.

John rolled his eyes to the news and turned off the radio with a grunt, this was no doubt an attempt to put blame on furs for something once again.

He eventually arrived to his destination and pulled his truck up in the parking lot of a large supermarket. He turned off the trucks engine before getting out, grabbing a warm black jacket from the backseat and putting it on to protect him from the cold winter weather.

John began the walk towards the supermarket, immediately greeted with a poster on the glass door. It had the well known, intimidating F.E.O helmet drawn onto it, followed by the words. "Any fur resistance is punishable by death. We are always watching."

John ignored the poster and opened up the doors, stepping into the pretty busy supermarket, but he frowned almost immediately upon seeing the wide variety of different fur workers almost everywhere, either scrubbing the floors or stocking shelves. But they all had the same device around their necks, a collar that would deliver an extremely nasty shock if their slaver decides they're even the slightest bit out of line or if they step away from the premises of the supermarket, or, hell... if the slaver just decides to shock them for fun.

The sight made him sad and sick to his stomach, he absolutely despised the way humans treated furs and he wished he could do something, anything to help them... but he was just one man. He sighed and did his best to walk passed the slave fur workers, filling his basket with the usual essentials.

Eventually, he had a full basket of different products and set it down on the counter where a rather angry looking man greeted him with a scoff.

"This all?" Asked the clerk sarcastically with an angry attitude as he began scanning all of the items and bagging them.

John rolled his eyes, uncaring of the clerks attitude as he waited patiently. As soon as the items were all scanned and bagged, the clerk looked at him with a stern expression.

"I need your human code" the clerk demanded simply.

This code that the clerk was talking about was something that every human had in order to identify them and to give a brief background on them for any criminal offences and such. Whether he actually needed this code or he was just doing it to be an asshole... that wasn't really known right now.

John looked at him with confusion for a moment. "Seriously?" He asked with annoyance, it actually shamed him to have a 'human code', because it always reminded him of what he is, the same kind that openly and happily enslaves people.

"Gotta make sure you're not some registered fur fucker, company policy." The clerk shrugged with a smug grin. 'Fur fucker' was a well known insult to throw at people, if you show the slightest bit of mercy to furs or are even seen chatting with one... well... you will likely get labelled a 'fur fucker'.

A Changed World - Book I | The Howling WindsWhere stories live. Discover now