>You sit up to the sound of a car horn blaring
>Jenna Orthorn is pulled up, her van blocking the bike lane
>You hear hear her car door slam shut, the sound concerned footsteps approaching
>”What the hell are you guys doing on the side of the road!?”
>She sounds hysterical
>In an instant she’s at your side, pushing Sam out of the way
>Sam collapses to his knees, useless and fighting tears
>”What the hell happened to you?” She says, poking and prodding with medical precision. “Actually, don’t answer that. I’ve got a first aid kit in my car. Just lay back down… And try not to move.”
>She looks over to Mike, who is no longer trying to charge you like an angry bull (no offense to bulls, obviously)
>He just looks sullen as he stares daggers into the ground, his features hardened into a scowl
>”Mike?” Jenna says, caution working its way into her voice. “Did you…?”
>YES
>YES HE DID, YOU ORANGE BITCH
>Your lips, however, remain sealed
>Mike looks up the vixen, and you swear you can see lightning in his eyes
>”Take care of him,” he nods at you. “Because he can’t take care of himself. Or anyone else.”
>Oh you assfuck
>He narrows his gaze at the vixen
>”Today, 3 p.m. I don’t care what class you’re going to be in. Come meet me around the back of the school, by the loading docks. We need to talk.”
“If you can last that long.” You spit, flecks of blood flying out of your mouth
>Jenna pales, though that’s not easy to see beneath her fur
>”What happened to you, Anonymous?” She says. “You look like you got attacked by wolves.”
>You nod
”Yes, and no.”
>Do you single Mike out?
>Tell Jenna the truth?
>She’s a really nice girl
>She doesn’t need to be apart of this
>Mike doesn’t say anything — only stares coldly and calmly at you, before turning on his heels and walking down the road towards town
>Jenna and Alex call after him, but he doesn’t respond
>He just keeps walking down the side of the street with white flowers blowing softly in the autumn wind behind him
>They blow across Sam like massive snowflakes
>One lands softly on his hoodie
>He plucks it off and holds it delicately in his palm — cradles it with both of his paws like it might shatter
>”What the hell happened out here? What’s going on?” Jenna says as she pads you with bandages
>You lay back down and close your eyes
“I’ll let Mike tell you everything,” you say, no longer caring if Jenna is involved, who gets hurt or how the story is spun
>Everything is fucked anyway, and it’s only Tuesday
>Besides, people will be arriving soon
>You’ve got your end of the bargain to keep with the goths
>But frankly, you could care less about how this all ends
>Hell you might even join those edgy freaks and really get one over on Mike
>He, who only cares about graduating and leaving you all behind, can go fuck himself
>Jenna moves you all to the parking lot so you’re no longer bleeding out on the side of the road like a possum who played in traffic
>Alex is talking quietly to the fox
>His looming figure bends over the rather small vixen, having to nearly crouch to get within earshot
>You just hunch over and let the blood from your nose drip out onto the asphalt like someone turned on a red faucet in your skull
>Jenna looks distraught, Alex looks somehow worse — not a look you’re used to on the happy-go-lucky communist
>At least Sam and Alex and Jenna haven’t betrayed you
>Jenna leads Alex over to you
>You’re covered in bandages
>”Anon?” Jenna begins. “Alex and I think you should go and find Mike.”
>No
>Fuck that guy
>He can turn into an edgelord vampire all he wants
“Can’t,” you say, which is only half the truth. “Besides, he’ll be coming back to talk to you later, won’t he? What’s the point in me cutting school to go and track down the guy who just kicked my ass?”
>”Kicked your ass? What are you talking about?” The fox inquires
>You shrug your shoulders and stand up. “I’ll explain later. Or maybe Mike will. It doesn’t matter. Sam.” You point at the rabbit
“You’re following me until lunch. And then Alex. Understood?”
>”What? Why?” Jenna asks again, sounding dismayed
“Again, everything will be made clear to you soon.”
>”Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” She says with a groan
>You pat your chest, making sure the red book is still in your inner pocket
>You can feel it there like a heavy, flat stone, despite how small and thin it is
>You hate this fucking book
>You hate yourself for getting involved
>Alex salutes you as you walk past
>Sam follows quickly behind you, leaving Jenna alone at her car, visibly confused
>The day plods along slowly
>You’re counting the hours, minutes, seconds, until your lunch period
>T-minus one hour until you have to do the unforgivable
>Talk to Gloria Duchene
>Lead her into the gym
>And then
>Well, you don’t know what’s going to happen to her
>But you can’t help but feel this tiny tinge of… rot in your stomach
>That must be guilt
>Just the thought of giving her over to the goths makes you cringe and presses that sickly feeling deeper into your guts
>And you can’t believe you actually care about a person who honestly gives you the creeps like Gloria does
>Well something similar did happen to happen to you and Sam, right?
>Christ, why do you get all the weirdos?
>You have Sam attend class, but tell him to meet you outside at the first floor bathrooms every 30 minutes. It’s a system that lets you check in on him while you’re still ‘present’ in class, though that’s a gross misuse of the term, because really, all you’re doing is throwing glances towards the clock or towards the door in English class
>Sam should know where you are in case there’s trouble
>What if his dad shows up out of fucking nowhere and caves your skull in?
>He did look really pissed off after you… you know…
>Ran him over with your car?
>God damnit, get a hold of yourself
>You’re safe here, in large numbers, among students
>Well, what if he pulls Sam out of school?
>Then what are you going to do?
>Worse yet, he knows your name
>Fuckity fuck fuck
>What class is thumper in? An art class, right? Advanced drawing?
>You’re going to go check
>You just want it to be lunch already
>And also for everyone to stop staring at you
>To be fair, you look like an absolute mess, what with your suit jacket torn, your clothes ruffled, the dried blood on your nose and lips…
>You stand up abruptly in English class, and Mrs. Felix, with whip-crack speed, addresses you
>”Mr. Anonymous? Going to the bathroom again?” She says sharply
>You nod in reply
>”Drink less coffee next time,” she says dismissively, before quickly jumping back in to the existentialists, her mouth moving a mile a minute
>How anyone keeps up in her class is a fucking mystery to you
>Guess that’s fennec foxes though, right? Little balls of energy
>You almost say ‘speak for yourself,’ but just shrug off the misplaced ‘advice’
>In the halls you have to do everything you possibly can not to break into a sprint
>And the halls feel awfully empty, save for the occasional cluster of students
>You notice yourself catching venomous looks from others
>Mostly it’s coming from jocks, especially anthros, and ESPECIALLY anthro wolves
>Big, hulking animals that make you look like a little emo twig in comparison
>Not that you’re emo, you remind yourself, power-walking to the first floor
>Emos don’t power-walk
>Were you not in public you’re sure they’d tear you in half
>But not while you power-walk
>There’s no honor in that
>You’re nearly to the stairs when a shape lunges in front of you, blocking your path
>Naturally, because you’re a jittery, anxious bastard, you nearly piss yourself
>In fact, you let out a pathetic little scream
>”Anon!”
>No
>Not now
>You see curly horns
>An over-zealous crucifix hanging proudly against her heavily conservative denim dress
>Fur white as pure snow
>A Long conal snout, big, judgmental eyes accented by a pair of thick-rim glasses
>Yep
>Gloria Duchene
>”Are you going to the bathroom?” she asks, leaning in uncomfortably close
>Bitch what the fuck does it look like you’re doing?
>You swear you can still smell the communion wine on her — or is that perfume?
>What’s the difference to her anyway?
“Yessss….? You reply with a deep, deep groan
>Gloria, who is about as socially conscious as Sam is, doesn’t seem to pick up on your annoyance
>”Well, do you have a hall pass? You know I’ll have to writeeeee you upppp.”
“A hall pass? Since when is that a thing?” Your tone is incredulous
>She wrinkles her nose and smiles, her heavy eyelashes fluttering like they each weighed 20 pounds
>She grabs a hold of your hand, and you die a little inside when you feel how sweaty she is, even with her fur absorbing most of the moisture
>”Don’t worry, Anonymous, I’ll escort you. If the principal sees me with you, he’ll let you go without a spanking.”
>Somehow that explains so much — the spanking part, you mean
>She drags you back towards the second floor bathrooms
>You wriggle free of her grip, much to the stubborn goat’s dismay
>”Oopsies, you slipped!”
>She grabs you even tighter, ringing your slender wrist
>You dig your heels in and grind to a halt
“Please stop. I’m trying to go downstairs — and I don’t need you help,” you beg of her, hoping that her god will take pity on your accommodating soul
>”Nonsense,” she balks. “You need me (and I need you).”
>She whispers that last part, but you can still hear her well enough
>If there is a God, he is not with this thirsty-ass goat right now
>Goats are stubborn, but damnit, you’re a human
>Have a little pride in yourself and your species!
>What is mankind, the crafty ape, good for?
>Well, being crafty
>time to bust out the… craft…?
“Gloria, Gloria, listen to me. You listening? I was thinking about you today.”
>The goat sucks in a massive gulp of air before her mouth flies open
>”YouwerebecauseIwasprayingaboutyoutooand-”
>She’s practically tripping over her own tongue
>Go in for the kill, buddy
“Yeahhhhh, I was thinking about you!” You shoot her some finger guns in a bad attempt to look and act cool. “In fact, I was wondering if you’d like to eat lunch w-”
>”YES.” She tugs you in close by your shirt collar
>You can physically see how moist she is, which is an ugly, ugly sounding sentence
>Sweat beads off her forehead, sliding through her short fur only to be lost in its tufts, never to complete its journey to the floor
>”YES WE CAN EAT LUNCH TOGETHER, DARLING.”
>Glad to see she’s so eager
>Or are you?
>You are about to sacrifice her to the goths
>That familiar feeling of guilt settles at the bottom of your stomach like a sour stone
>You do your best to smile
>Oh, you sneaky dog, such an actor now
>Fuck face
“G-Great. Let’s eat in the gym though, okay?”
>”The gym?” She cocks an eyebrow
“Yeah. Less people. It’s uhhhh-” You start to sweat
>Fuck, why is this happening to you?
“It’s just a more relaxed environment,” you lie
>You lying liar
>You lying faggot coward
>Wait
>No, that last part was also a lie
>You’re not a cowa-
>”Well… if you say so. Lunch time at the gym? Got it!”
>You breathe a sigh of relief when she skips off, doing a quick twirl mid air, sending her skirt spinning around her dainty legs
>You at last free yourself of the horny (heh) goat and flee down the stairs
>God damn, she’s really, really, really forceful today. Is she starting her heat or something?
>Don’t female anthros take pills and wear scent masks for that sort of thing?
>Maybe she forgot hers this week this week?
>Or it’s got something to do with last Friday, the moon, the goths, and all the weird shit happening around school
>Speaking of weird shit, when you peek through the windowed door to the art room, you see about 15 empty seats. In fact it’s just Sam, the teacher, and an odd assortment of theater kids and stoners (sitting on polar opposite sides of the room)
>Sam looks even more isolated in the middle of the two factions, as if he were dividing them
>Judging by the horrible looks the two groups are sharing with each other, you get the feeling that Sam isn’t the source of the animosity or division
>Something else, more supernatural, is
>You breathe a heavy sigh of relief
>Thank fuck he’s saf-
>A sharp pencil sails across the room towards the stoners
>Then a few erasers
>And some rulers
>And then exacto knives
>The stoners retaliate by leaping from their seats — mostly a group of humans save for an odd skunk — and throwing themselves towards the opposite side of the room with all the suddenness of a sloth
>A scrap breaks out like a summer storm — that is to say, suddenly and violently
>The teacher, a rather thin doberman, bares her fangs and jumps into the fray, desperately fighting to separate the teens before they murder one another
>Sam seizes up at the sight of the melee
>You throw open the door
>Sam turns his head, sees you standing in the door like some kind of hero (despite the fact that you really fucking aren’t), and bolts towards you, pausing only to grab his drawings
>He’s unable to stop himself in time, sprinting with some kind of madness and wild abandon
>The thin little rabbit collides into you with the force of a thrown pillow, though it does send you stumbling back
>God damnit, this is like the second or third time this has happened
>You wrap your arms around him to steady yourself and him, as both of you are in danger of falling and making this significantly more gay than it already is
>Eh, the gay doesn’t bother you as much anymore
>But falling might
>Sam looks up at you with his bright eyes, like shimmering pools of molten gold
>You can see the panic and fear behind them, but you also recognize the comfort and relief that now colors his expression
>”T-Thanks A-Anon…” he squeaks
>Instinctively, you reach a hand down and stroke back his ears, run your fingers through his matted and greasy fur
>God it feels good to comfort and protect him
>Before you realize what you’ve done, Sam lets out a contented sigh
>”W-What are you doing?” He whispers, nuzzling into your touch. “I-I like it.”
>You instantly drop your hands to your sides
>Fuck, what WERE you doing?
>You scratch nervously at the back of your neck while a blush scours your cheeks
“I-I don’t… Just ignore that. The important thing is: you’re out of there.”
>the rabbit nods, letting his bangs cover his face once again
>You’re tempted to just punch him in the face in order to prove your heterosexuality, but you could never do that to him
>And his big, puppy dog eyes, glowing like chips of amber completely disarm you
>”Y-You w-w-wanna see my d-drawings?” He asks, moving the subject autistically to what he’s been working on
>No concern for the obvious violence now taking place in the room behind him
>You can hear the want in his voice
>Frankly, you’re glad that he’s gotten the courage to speak to you directly and not in whispers
>You can’t help but smile a little
“Of course I do. But not here. Let’s get somewhere safe.”
The Leaves of Fall Act 2: Fear the Nobodies (Part 16)
You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.
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About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
5 years ago
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Estimated reading time
13 Minutes
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