Today's page contains material some people may find disturbing. Read on at your own risk

The tiger laughed and though Andrew couldn't see him he could feel it when the tiger knelt behind him and grabbed the waistband of his pants. The tiger's sharp claws shredded the cloth, pulling it away, exposing him. Andrew whimpered again, still fighting, trying to kick at his assailant. But the tiger was too close for his feet to reach so all he accomplished was to flail ineffectually. He shuddered, struggling ever harder as the tiger grabbed him by the tail, lifting it out of the way.

“No... Gods p-please d-don't... No...” He tried futilely to shrink into the floor, wanting to do anything to escape, knowing it was impossible without some kind of miracle.

A moment later it was too late even for miracles. Andrew screamed as the tiger violated him, fighting even harder still, his struggles frantic. But all his fighting accomplished nothing and at last he stopped struggling, just lying there, sobbing, beneath his attacker, who grunted in satisfaction as he took his pleasure.

It didn't last long, it was only a few minutes later when the tiger withdrew, sated. Andrew lay limply, still sobbing softly. The coyote let go of his shoulder, and for an instant he thought it was over. Then the tiger moved to take the coyote's place in pinning him down and he knew what was coming next.

By the time the coyote finished Andrew had stopped sobbing. He lay perfectly still, not even breathing, trying to somehow cease to exist, to cease to feel, to retreat inside himself.

As the dog began to take his turn Andrew heard a new voice shout, “Hey! What do you think you're doing?”

“Just havin' a little fun,” the tiger responded. There was a cowed note in his voice.

“Yeah, I know what your idea of fun is like. Let him go.”

“Come on, Jen, we're almost done here anyway. Give us one more minute.” That breathless voice was the dog, who hadn't stopped what he was doing.

The new voice was closer now. “Move it right now or I'll personally tear all three of you into little pieces.”

The coyote let go of Andrew and rose.

“Dammit, almost done,” grunted the dog.

“I mean it,” snapped the newcomer.

“Uhn.” The dog grunted again, a sound of satisfaction. “Fine, I'm finished here anyway. He's all yours.” He withdrew, and the tiger let go of Andrew's shoulder and stood as well. Their footsteps retreated. The soft, almost inaudible steps of his rescuer approached. But she didn't actually rescue me, did she? She was too late for that... He squeezed his eyes tightly closed and rolled over to curl up in a fetal ball. He didn't want to see her, didn't want her to see him, wanted to cease existing, to vanish, to go away and be free from pain and shame and fear.

She knelt next to him and touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He flinched and curled up tighter. Go away, go away, go away.

“That's a stupid question, of course you're not all right. You can't just stay here though. Come on...” Andrew didn't move. She sighed, and then he felt himself lifted. He whimpered. For a moment he thought of struggling. But fighting, or moving at all, would mean he was reacting to her. And that would make her presence real, would make it all real. He didn't want it to be real, he wanted it to be some nightmare. Then he could wake and it would all go away. So he simply huddled tighter and let himself be carried up the stairs, away from the lobby. She went down the second story hallway, and into a room, and then set Andrew down on a bed. She just stood for a while, then she sighed. “You're a mess. I should clean you up.”