First Chapter  sneak peek                                                                                                                                           Coreline

 

Written by• Justnox •

© 2025 Justnox

All rights reserved.

 

 Original Story

 

PROLOGUE ENTRY_log.00 - Designed to fall

 

 

Ever thought how you'd imagine the sky if you never saw a glimpse of it?

Or how you would clean what is inherently toxic

​

What if your sky was just a floor for some to walk on.

How would it feel to know they'd never give a shit about you?

What if the very rain that fell from above, was the runoff beneath their feet?

Your work sets your worth, but your world is their work.

​

Wash your sins with the waste from above.

 

---

 

Crossway / 1:32 AM

Amid a dim alley shadow lurked a ghostly figure. He rushed with quick hasted steps, fleeing from something that must feel inevitable. Tripping over some small trash bags, he abruptly stopped. His chest moved quickly. The light casted a shadow against the dejected, cold concrete wall. The water that fell from the floors above was grimy and toxic, soaking him wet. On his head was a fully enclosed Protogen mask. It was sleek and helmet-like, with a rounded visor on the front which served as some kind of display. It depicted a sinister jagged maw and piercingly sharp eyes that wandered the screen. Its shining white lights bloomed in the dark, like the thousands of advertisements all around. The man's tail swayed cautiously behind him, his rounded ears were angled forward. He pulled the mask off his head, panting heavily. 

Why are my lungs made out of paper bags?

Gasping for air and completely out of breath, he tucked the device under his arm, resting his paws on his knees to let out the exhaustion cool down. The waste-filled rain quickly began to also soak his head.Bits of it dripped into his mouth, leaving a sour taste. Coreline’s lower streets were flooded with a thick purple mist that coated the city's layers in smoggy clusters of toxic air.

With the next inhale he felt a dry, itchy sting in his throat. Twice, he coughed loudly, wheezing. A paw covered his mouth and with the next inhale came a liberating relief.

This better not be on the smoking. Eh, I shouldn't have skipped all the jogging training. At least it’s flushing right now, so the air isn’t burning the hell out of my throat. Ironically, it has to be the smoking now. Great.

He turned the device, inspecting its interior. A flickering, red, and messy code clustered its screen.

Oh, okay, now I see, this ... tin-can wanted to choke me to death. It deactivated the breathing flow system. Fuck, its gonna fall apart soon.

Digging his hand deep into his pocket, he desperately clenched a soaked cigarette. With the cig in his mouth, he pulled out a lighter.

Click. Click

Come on, come on, Smolder. Mandy would laugh her ass off right now - seeing you like this. All soaked and pathetic… 

Coreline's dirty rainfall choked the light.Hissing in protest, the lighter shot out puffs of sparks. The flames pushed against the downpour until finally... A flame.

Weak, lit up the alley in a dim light, casting dancing shadows that stretched far like looming beats of the night. The fires light fought a losing battle with the cracks in the walls since they sided with the darkness. At some places, colourful graffiti had been sprayed over the walls, giving it a fraction of beauty. 

I give a dry shit about the masks enhancements, or stupid AI. But right now, its patsy ideas would have come in handy. Too bad it's gonna try to rip off my face soon. Pffft.

The fire gave him a sliver of warmth. It was a pale comparison against the city's cold, everlasting stare-down. His lips met the cigarette bud with anticipation and the first inhale stung his throat, the familiar burn steadied his trembling paws. Enough to push forward through the rain.

I should keep moving.

Water trickled off his snout. At each step, his boot splashed through shallow puddles, reflecting fragments of distant lights. Below an invitingly lit window stood a dumpster lid which was partially opened. A moldy pallet leaned against it, catching some of the warm light that spilled out. He peaked over both his shoulders, cautiously inspecting the environment around him.

I think I’ll hide it in this dumpster. The GPS should be trashed by now. I'm sure the failsafe’s ticking like a bomb. I’ll be back before the trash gets sucked to stack 7… That would be a problem.

Quickly he shoved the mask in there and covered the device with waste and debris.

He then rushed off with hasty steps, pocketing his paws absentmindedly. Inside his folds he then felt a dull edge of a counterfeit USB stick hit his paw. For a moment, he stood silent and still. The unpredictable pattern of rain hammered against the city's gray walls. Then it grew louder, and louder as static took over. In a burst of fury, he clawed the object, hauling it to the ground. “FUCK YOU!” He screamed.

Breaking apart in the dim light, it left behind a trail of shattered pieces. Between the loose fragments, he noticed his silhouette. His fur, straight out of a 1900s black-and-white movie,  had been completely soaked through by now. The dirt and filth of the flush clung to him like the city’s smog to its street. Ahead lit a dim advertisement for a washing store.He exhaled sharply. Right above his pointy nose, a white stripe runs between his eyes. They rolled down, spotting a stain on his soaked suit. It was a crimson red blood splatter, standing out in the dirt, yet it was dampened by the rain.

Shit.

Frantically, he took his fifth attempt to wipe it off, as if it would magically work now. Like streets, scrubbed to be stained again, the mark returned no matter what. With the cigarette resting in his mouth, he snorted. He knew exactly that mandy would be terrified to see him come home like that.

The thought of her made her tremble, when he froze in place. 

He imagined her running toward her, arms extended with her innocent careless smile. “Daddy, daddy!“

His shoulders dropped low and a faint smile crawled up on his cheek when he thought of Mandy, leaning against the doorframe, wearing her red dress with a deep cutout. He knew exactly how beautiful she looked, every time he came home from his dangerous travels. He could almost hear teasing words. “Darling, you can't imagine how much I missed you,” He imagined her stunning eyes and soft fur. She would always ask the same thing… “It's been a whole month… When will this stop? Can't you just leave then, stay with us?”Deep down, he knew this could only end, once the PTC had been overthrown. His hands turned to fists, teeth gritting. 

I wish I could hug my princess now., I wish she will see one day… that im doing this for them, for the greater good…

A loud noise tore him out of his train of thought. A door groaned open and slammed against the concrete wall with a clank, just across the alley. His paw shot inside his pocket, grasping the handle of a gun. He waited, jaw tensing up… Until a pig emerged carrying a stack of trash. He exhaled, rushing past the pig.

The surroundings matched the mood. The dull concrete was slicked with rain while flickering signage bloomed in the downpour in an almost artistic way. Steam rose from vents and broken pipes where a tiny bit of warm exhaust escaped. Only the faint hum of urban life managed to pierce through the rain and damp air. A clattering, echoes of people talking, laughing, or screaming. Occasionally, some cars honked far in the background, together with trains that periodically rushed by. He took a final deep puff from the cigarette. "Anyway, I think I'm good for now," he muttered to himself, his voice shaky.

The thought of what was about to happen gnawed at him.

I have to get out of this mess- I have to explain myself! They wouldn't, would they? They know that this has to be a misunderstanding!

His gaze shifted back to the cigarette. Its ember flickered under the flush, burning dangerously close to his fingers.

"I miss them."

He flicked the butt onto the wet ground, where at least five others already floated around, stomping it out with his heel. Water splashed up below his boot.

The silence around him felt suffocating, accompanied only by the water hammering against metal railings. Heavy boots splashed on the waterlogged concrete as they drew in closer.

"What the hell? Did they — THESE BASTARDS!"

His thoughts turned to his family. With time running out, he pulled the gun. It gave him comfort. Though at the same time, a cold breeze ran down his back. It crawled under his skin and scratched his spine.

The tracker's broken. How could they...

He attempted to turn a corner and froze. A long, metallic barrel of a gun was pointed directly at him. A mink held both paws on her gun, lightly shaking just like her legs; “S-Smolder, why, I though you—” She stuttered

Before she could finish the sentence he crouched low, flicking the mink's boots with his feet, sending her down to the wet floor. He pointed his gun toward her. Then his ear twitched at a faint noise behind him. “Checkmate,” a deep voice threatened.

The push of a pointy metallic object hit his back ribs.

Smolder slowly raised his hands. “Listen- I didn't steal the money nor the USB stick.”

“Drop the gun, now,” the voice from behind growled.

He let go of it, as the gun fell to the ground with a tiny splash. He kicked it into a dark corner while the mink on the floor rattled herself up. His breath caught in his throat. Time seemed to stand still. He could smell the faint, dying scent of the cigarette still on the ground, barely giving off any smoke, its last breath curling into the rising vapor. The only movement was the flicker of neon merged with the rain. 

He slowly turned around. A shadowy outline of a person pressed the weapon against his forehead. Rain dripped from the gun onto the man's orange paw, down his soaked sleeve. He could feel the cold edge of the barrel. The strange, yet familiar voice whispered.

"Sorry, Smolder. You shouldn't have fucked up that deal.  They are pretty pissed down there, you know? Where is the mask?” “Tell her I loved her.”He could make out a hard swallow behind him.“... We will find the mask — eveutnually.”

Click. Clack.

"Syndicate above all," the deep voice whispered.

The sound of the gunshot cut through the city like lightning splitting the dark with the force of a god. Collapsing to the floor, his disappointed stare was the only thing colder than the wet ground. A shot, clean through the stomach, mixed the dirty water with his blood. Crumbling on the floor, the last thing he noticed was the bright ad overhead.

“Welcome to Coreline. We, the PTC, flush for your well-being! From top to bottom Coreline, we clean the streets of the toxic smog that terrorizes our city.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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