Tracy Gilmore
Hypnotik Ink Presents
V O N
The Devourer From the Stars
An Erotic Sci-Fi Thriller
Tracy Gilmore
Von is not the average alien. He has been traveling the galaxy for specimens and with his mission complete, he can begin preparing for the return home. Like many traveling long distances, he requires nourishment. Luckily for Von, he found just the place.
Earth.
There is an overabundance of assorted humans, for which his species views the males as caviar and women as the rarest of wines. His mission now, to find the best sample of both. There is just one problem, there is another alien who wants the same female as he.
The Suuwok are a race of beings that attack other species in their dreams. Mireya has been a choice specimen for years and the Suuwok have come to collect. When Von realizes his prime wine is about to be taken, he goes through drastic measures to gets her away.
Once he has her, will he be able to contain his urges to eat her, or will the Suuwok attack Von’s ship in order to get Mireya back?
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 © by Tracy Gilmore
Cover by BetiBup33
[email protected]
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No portion of this book shall be reproduced in any form whatsoever.
Mature Audiences Only
May contain scenes of rape and excessive graphic violence
Other books by Tracy Gilmore
Something Very Unexpected
Something Very Interesting
Hypnotik: The Curses of Ashley Peyton
Hypnotik 2: The Curse of Ashley Peyton
Hypnotik 3: Ashley’s Revenge
In Exchange for Jackie
In Exchange for James
In Exchange for Plan B
Played by the Ruse
Measuring the Size of a Claude
Under the pseudonym Hotchotlver
Erotic Stories food for the mind.
THANKS TO ALL OF YOU
Lord above for the blessing of writing.
Sweetpea mama Donna for listening to me constantly go on and on about all my stories and getting upset when her favorite story doesn’t get published.
Samantha, for her above and beyond PA skills, proofreading, and being an all around friend and supporter.
The ladies of ‘Bloggers From Down Under’
Gayle for her eloquent linguistic skills to make a synopsis sound better than the book and Melinda for her tireless efforts of promoting.
Terena, for listening to my drabble and giving me pointers.
Sonia, for screaming at me to get all the books done.
Shelby for her constant retweets.
WARNING
The story you are about to read contains scenes so graphic in detail, so horrific in wording and so disgusting in thought, they may upset sensitive stomachs.
You have been warned.
Enjoy.
MIREYA
“Just get out of here Warren! You are a no good useless man and I am tired of being your lackey and steady ass while you run the streets!” I expressed tossing his clothes in his face.
He moved his head to the side letting the clothes fall to the floor. “Baby, come on, you are being a little dramatic. It was just a kiss.”
“Dramatic?” I questioned with a squeal in my voice. His sarcastic tone upset me just that much more. “I will have you know I was the one who saw you, not only sliding your grotesque tongue down her throat, but I saw you go into the hotel with her. Then after waiting two hours, I saw you come out of the hotel and kiss her again!”
His brow wrinkled and he moved his lips about bunching them to one side.
“Wait, so you’re telling me, you’ve been following me?”
“Hell yeah, I’ve been following you. So I know all about the four other women you have been seeing behind my back.”
He tucks his chin in, knowing I have busted him and there is no way he can lie himself out of this one. He chuckles as he starts to talk again.
“You bitch! I knew your ass was crazy, now I know just how much of a crazy ass you are.” He stated pointing his finger at me.
“You think I‘m crazy?” I pushed him and he stumbled back. “I will show you how fuckin’ crazy I am.” I shoved him again taking him to the very door he needs to leave out of. “I am officially off of team Warren.”
He glances at his chest and then at me. “You need to watch who you—”
I got on my toes to be in his face. “Hit me mutherfucker. Come on!”
He snorted a chuckle. “You lucky I don’t hit girls.”
“See that’s your problem Warren, you can’t tell the difference. I am a grown ass beautiful black woman. Yo punk ass ain’t nothing but a girl.” I slapped him hard just for insulting women.
“BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK!” He screamed palming his face. He was quick to upright himself balling his fists. “I will knock you the fuck out, you keep playing with me.”
“You ain’t gonna do shit. If you was any kind of a man you would have come and told me to my face you didn’t want to be with me. Instead you wanted to play me and a few other women. Well Warren guess what? You will not play this trumpet anymore, you and your attitude can leave.”
He gripped his bottom lip thinning his hazel eyes at me. “I know you don’t mean that baby, and just to show I have no hard feelings, I will forgive you for that little tap.” He moaned seductively coming towards me.
I pushed past him and opened the door. “Get out Warren. It’s over.”
“Girl stop playing.” He snorted.
“Oh, you think I’m playing?” I stepped away from the door going to the bedroom where I had all of his things packed. They shouldn’t even be considered his things since I bought them and was paying for them with my credit card. Taking the large trash bag, I took out an item to show him.
“What you doing with my Jordans?”
I pursed my lips then lifted my brows as I tossed them right out the window. His face went pale as a sheet, his jaw dropped to the floor then he dashed to see how far they had fallen.
“Bitch you fucking crazy!”
I glanced to see who picked them up.
“Don’t you fucking dare take those shoes!” his outstretched arm was pointing at a young boy who was smiling brightly glancing up at the open window.
“Stay right there!” Warren instructed him.
He cursed me for tossing them out as he ran out the door, the stomp of his feet echoing down the hall. I dumped the rest of his things on the street freeing myself of having to take them to the thrift store. Since he can’t keep to one woman, his clothes shouldn’t be just for him. I leaned out the window watching him argue and fight with people to get his clothes back.
“This isn’t over, I’ma get you back!” Warren shouted.
I had a great laugh then I closed the window, locked the door and gave a sigh to what will be an enjoyable single period of my life.
With the dawning of a new day and a relaxing shower, I looked at myself in the full length mirror. I have a ’spare tire’, a glob of fat protruding past my bikini line, granted it’s not the most appealing feature of me, but its part of who I am.
I am not a tall woman, but with my five foot frame, I shouldn’t be this big. My breasts rest largely on my spare tire and the rest of me, well all of me, needs some work. I shake my braided hair, which I needed a touch up, and t
urn away from the image. My natural hair is shoulder length but not really manageable. It’s hard to keep a curl, won’t stay straight and with it out, I will just have it in a ponytail forever.
My life had already been ruined by Warren. I didn’t want to think about him anymore afterwards. I have my own demons to deal with. When I think about it more, it wasn’t really his fault the way things happened. I was so glad to have him in my life I was willing to do anything. I overlooked the money he took out of my account, the money I spent on him, the two jobs I worked to keep this apartment for him and the car I was paying for. I had to laugh at myself for that one. I can’t even drive a car and yet, I was struggling to pay for his. Almost paid it off too. Lucky bastard.
I took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh as I was going in the kitchen. It was early Saturday morning and I didn’t have to work. I glanced around at my lovely space while pulling out the tray of Jell-O shooters I made last night. There were boxes by the front door, other items of Warrens I plan on donating to the thrift store. The living area was large enough to sit, relax and be able to dance around the coffee table.
Large bay windows to the east, where they caught the first rays of the sun warming the apartment and let in a lot of fresh air. Living in New York, fresh air was rare. Only the best neighborhoods were close to the main shopping zones but away from all the traffic filling the apartment with car exhaust and dust.
My apartment smelled of Paper whites. A beautiful white flower, from the daffodil family. A fragrant but not overbearing scent. I bought them from a street merchant during the market fair and they have grown to be a beautiful bouquet. The kitchen was open to the living space with a long island. A speckled black and silver granite top to separate the spaces.
The bedrooms and bathroom were fairly spacious. The second bedroom I designed with just a couch, lounge chair and coffee table. The walls were covered with bookshelves, filled to the brim. A small library for myself. I may not be the smartest woman on earth but I do enjoy the feel of a thick hardback, the scent of leather and the feel of paper between my fingers. I love being able to travel to distance countries, galaxies and meeting all those interesting intensely dangerous men from the comfort of my couch.
I smiled thinking about my latest adventure read. The woman being kidnapped and the man, a known killer, was debating on keeping her. His rough angry attitude sent chills up my back every time he approached her. She was so timid and yet drawn to his complexity. But when things got rough, he was quick to protect her without regard to his own life. What I would give to have a man like that.
I picked up my cell phone to play my music app so I could dance terribly while singing even worse to the music and eating my shooters.
I continued my gyrating and warbling into the living room while I watered my flowers. Just as I was getting into the groove with Marvin Gaye, the music stopped and the phone rang.
“Ugh,” I groaned. “Hello Michelle.” I answered panting.
“Hey girl, how you doing?” My friend Michelle. She was a dear friend, a second conscious so to speak. She had a loving motherly tone about her to be so young. And similar to a mother she always gave me the best advice but I never listened until it was too late. “You sound out of breath. Tell me you not crying over that man?”
“No, I was actually dancing when you called.”
“Did you kick him out?”
“Yeah girl and I threw out his clothes.”
Michelle was one of six team leaders at the small industrial plant where we worked. She has always been a leader type woman, and her performance on the job was impeccable.
“Good for you. I’m glad he’s gone. He was making you do too much and not giving anything to the relationship.”
I palmed my head listening to Michelle but was really fed up with the conversation. “Michelle, is there any other reason you called? I was doing very well not thinking about him and now all you want to do is talk about him.” I said abruptly.
“I didn’t mean to bring him up. I was asking how you was doing.”
“I am much better thank you. I was in the middle of cleaning.”
“Well, did you want to go out later, I got a baby sitter.”
Michelle, although she was a dear friend, also had a little bundle of joy. Baby Taylor. She’s four months old and was cute as a button. Her curly black hair was identical to that of her father, she had the deepest of dimples but her eyes are comparable to her mothers, a soft yet captivating shade of pale green. The father was not involved so it gets to be hard on Michelle, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I might. I’ve been eating shooters.”
“Okay. Well make sure you eat and I will call about lunch time then.”
“Okay, thanks.” I nibbled on my lip, feeling bad about my attitude towards her. I didn’t mean to snap at her. “Sorry about biting your head off.”
Michelle laughed. “It’s okay. You can buy lunch on Monday to make up for it.”
I laughed. “One chicken Caesar salad coming up.”
“Later girl.”
“Bye.”
I turned my music back on but wasn’t in the mood to dance anymore. I jumped on the living room couch to eat my remaining shooters while watching a movie.
MIREYA
“Oh my head,” I groaned getting up from the couch. The clock on the cable box alerting me that it was well after one in the morning. I remember taking the shooters out and having a few. The flicker of light reflecting off the glass told me apparently I had more than I recall. I threw back twelve of them and drank the rest of the vodka. The flashing light on my cell informed me I missed Michelle’s call, text messages and our chance to go out. I will have to bring her an extra special gift to make up for this.
My stomach resembled a nest of snakes moving around inside me. They churned relentlessly waking me up because I was laying on top of them. I rushed to the bathroom to upheave the amounts I spooned down then stroked the cool side of the porcelain. With one wobbly hand I held back the tendrils of my hair, heaving the mixture of alcohol and gelatin with a sour scent into the base of the toilet. Exhaling an even fouler stench of breath, I leaned back and with my other shaky hand, flushed the remnants away.
“Ugh,” I moaned pushing my tired and drained body up from the floor as I wobbled in an attempt to head to bed. Flashes of heat washed over me, the uneasy feeling of a few more snakes remaining inside made me shorten my trip as I flopped on the couch in the second bedroom. My legs were about as good to stand on as the Jell-O I guzzled down. My stomach, now having the feeling of being beaten up by a prizefighter, was as tender to the touch as a black eye. I laid on my side gently rubbing the sore loser praying it will feel better in the morning.
***
I was having my nightmare again, that much I do remember. I was being chased by this little girl. It would always start off with me being at my grandmothers then when I walk out the door I would be in some foreign place barefoot. The ground was a cold wet squishy mash oozing between my toes. My breath was a small fog in front of me and I could never warm my hands no matter how much I breathed on them.
My skin would crawl feeling as though some slimy hand touched my shoulder. The area surrounding me was the thickest of fogs but had the tint of smoke from a burning chimney. What made it so terrible was I couldn’t see my own hand when I held it out in front of me it was so thick.
Shadows would move past me and I couldn’t decipher if they were to hurt me or help me. I was walking through a crowd to a destination I had no idea I was headed and the occasional brushing of my hand, the touch on my back, and the tug of my hair made me jumpy turning in every direction although I couldn’t see anyone. The air was cold and thick with fog making the distance I traveled longer because of the short steps I took.
The little girl however, I could see clear as day. She was about the height of an eight year old with long blonde pigtails wearing a short yellow dress with puffy short sleeves and white ruffles un
derneath. She wore a white apron over the dress with two pockets. Inside the pockets were kittens. She was eating them as if they were popcorn balls. I heard the crunch of bone when she bit into one of them, and then her long angular red tongue, covered with blood and pieces of fur, would slither out licking her fingers of the remains. She was clearly no average little girl.
She stood at the end of the road, her body sideways until she wanted me to see her fully. I couldn’t make out her face. I say that because she didn’t really have a face, just a black smudge, close to a giant thumbprint leaving only a black scar.
But that’s not the scary part.
The scary part was when she would smile at me.
I could see the white of her teeth. Razor sharp rows with pointed ends. There was the scent of metal in the air, not car metal but stale blood, along with rotting flesh. No matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the little girl, I believed she just loved to torment me, not just scare the hell out of me.
One minute she was so far away I could only see her teeth, but in the seconds it took me to blink, she was right in front of me, mouth wide open ready to gnaw off my face.
I shot up on the couch gasping, clutching my shirt. I let out several easy breaths reassured I was in my home and wiped the dampness from my forehead.
“Damn nightmare,” I muttered as I got up to drink some seltzer water to ease the queasiness of my stomach. Stepping out into the hall I rubbed my eyes wondering why it was so bright when I know I only had the nightlight on and I glanced up to see why.
My motions stopped. The next sensation I felt was the fast thumps of my heart and the warmth in my pajama pants. Fucking hell.
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