by Sean Shake
Abigail gave the two of us a disgusted look, then returned to the bathroom, once more locking the door.
“Grumpy,” Emma said teasingly, and lay down next to Hunter. The last of the cuts and scrapes had healed, and her dusky red skin was now flawless save for the scar I’d given her.
Surprisingly, it was clean as well, as though all the dirt and blood had been either reabsorbed or burned off.
I bent down to look under the bed, but didn’t see the dome.
“What are you doing down there?” Emma asked.
I pushed myself up and looked at her. “Nothing.”
“Come here, then.” She traced her finger down Hunter’s chest and stomach, avoiding the thin black tendril that spanned from crotch to breast. “She healed up well.”
Making a mental note to get the dome before I left, I crawled onto the bed on the other side of Hunter and looked down at her, feeling oddly protective.
I pushed the feeling aside. It wasn’t like I would mind if Emma was attracted to Hunter. I could share.
With her, anyway.
Or Abigail, come to think of it.
Still… “Yeah she did,” I replied. “I wonder why she heals, but the other hellspawns don’t. I also wonder if there’s anything she can’t heal from.”
Emma ran her finger over Hunter’s scar. “There’s always something you can’t heal from, no matter how strong you are.” She looked up at me, and her eyes burned into mine, as though she wanted to fuck me again right here.
Twenty minutes and no fucking later, Abigail came out in a towel, holding her bag of toiletries with the same hand she used to keep the towel wrapped around her.
She looked at the three of us on the bed; gave a small shake of her head.
She tossed the toiletry bag onto the floor next to her suitcase, then dug around in this for some clothes.
“Hey sexy,” Emma said.
“You’re really starting to freak me out, girl,” Abigail said. “I can’t believe you kissed me.” She pulled out a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants from the suitcase.
“You liked it.”
Abigail shook her head, but didn’t deny it.
Then she started back toward the bathroom, clothes in hand.
“Why don’t you get dressed in front of us?” Emma teased.
Abigail flipped her off without looking over her shoulder, then shut the bathroom door behind her.
Emma looked at me and grinned wickedly. “I’ve got a great idea. Want to play a game?”
I was lying next to Hunter—being a king, the bed was plenty wide—and I looked over at the demon girl that was looking more and more angelic, especially with her feathery wings, even if they were mostly black.
Still unconscious.
I looked back to Emma—who was still grinning—and lifted my hand in a why not gesture before letting it fall back down on my chest. “Sure.”
She crawled off the bed and rooted around in Abigail’s toiletry bag.
She pulled out a pair of scissors, then turned sultrily back toward me on the bed, hiding them behind her back.
I raised my eyebrow at her.
“You’ll see,” she said mischievously. “I once found some porn on Abigail’s computer, now I’m just going to fulfill her fantasy.” She bit her lip in a rather sexy way, and I felt myself growing aroused again.
Abigail came out of the bathroom wearing the sweatpants and T-shirt. I saw she was also wearing a bra, which I hadn’t seen her grab.
Girls were stealthy like that.
She was probably wearing panties, too.
She looked around the room, then her gaze fell on us lying on the bed.
“I don’t want to sleep on the couch or the floor, so if I crawl up there, you promise not to do anything creepy?” She was flicking her gaze between Emma and I, with an occasional saccade on Hunter.
I held up my hands. “Nothing weird from me.”
“I promise,” Emma said.
Abigail shook her head as she climbed onto the bed, getting between Hunter and I, so I was between Emma and her.
For a few minutes, we just lay there and watched TV, and I thought maybe Emma had decided not to go through with whatever she had been planning.
But then Emma crawled over me and got between Abigail and me, resting on her knees, looking at Abigail. “Hey Abby.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why don’t we play a game?”
“Because you’re weird and I don’t trust you right now.”
“I think you’ll like this game.” She pulled the scissors out from behind her back, holding them up, letting Abigail see them.
Abigail let out a quiet little gasp. “What are those for?”
Emma smiled, a wide smile, the kind of smile sometimes people say goes from ear to ear, though this one seemed like it might actually get there. “I think you know.” She grabbed the hem of Abigail’s shirt and placed the scissors around it, just on the brink of cutting into it. Just a little more pressure…
Her eyes flicked up to meet Abigail’s.
My arousal was growing, even though I wasn’t sure where this was heading.
Abigail let out another gasp. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tremulous.
Emma didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, she closed the scissors slowly, the cloth splitting, and started cutting up Abigail’s shirt.
The sound of each snip of cloth was like a pump, filling me below the waist.
“This is my mom’s shirt,” she protested, but made no effort to push Emma’s hands away.
Emma kept cutting all the way up to the neck of the shirt, and then snipped one last time, opening the front of the T-shirt and leaving the scissors pressed against Abigail’s throat.
She pressed harder, making Abigail lift her head, which just exposed more of her neck, then bent down and licked the hollow of Abigail’s throat.
Abigail’s breathing was heavy now, and Emma ran her hand down her sternum like she had to Hunter, this time going all the way to her waistband and pushing her fingers past it, leaving them there teasingly before pulling them out again.
Abigail’s eyes flicked to mine, saw that I was watching, and let out a little moan.
Then Emma slid the scissors under her right bra strap and snipped, then the left.
Then she slipped them under the clasp between her breasts and cut that too.
The cups floated loosely on Abigail’s breasts now, sliding down slightly, not completely off, still hiding her nipples.
Emma turned her attention to the sleeves of the T-shirt, cutting them and pushing them away, so now all that covered Abigail’s torso were those two floating bra cups, which slid a little more with each ragged breath Abigail took.
Next Emma slid the scissors under the waistband of Abigail’s sweatpants and cut down one leg, revealing a pair of pink panties.
She kept the scissors moving, cutting over her crotch and moving to her inner thigh, cutting all the way down to her ankle.
I saw gooseflesh rise on Abigail’s now-bare thighs.
Emma looked at me. “Touch her.”
I looked at Abigail, who swallowed and licked her lips. Her breathing was shallow, and she was practically quivering, but she nodded ever so slightly.
I ran my hand across her smooth stomach and up to her breasts, stopping just before I would’ve pushed the bra cup completely off.
I massaged her breast, the cup lifting and falling, revealing tantalizing hints of erect pink nipple.
Then I watched as Emma moved the scissors between Abigail’s legs and slipped them into the crotch of her panties.
She locked eyes with Abigail. Snip.
Abigail let out a loud moan.
“I told you you would like it,” Emma said, and slipped the scissors under the waistband of her panties, cutting there too.
Now if Abigail moved at all, all her clothing would fall off, revealing her body.
And that’s just what Emma did.
Abigail swallowed, the scissors pressed hard against her throat, and got to her knees, revealing herself to us.
Emma traced the scissors down over her nipples to her stomach. Down to her crotch, where she pressed them flat against her sex, eliciting a moan.
“Do you want to feel me inside you?” Emma asked.
Abigail swallowed again, then nodded, her eyes flicking to mine.
Emma turned to me, placed the scissors in her mouth, and slipped her robe off.
Then she undid my robe, pushing it open as I lay there, and smiled when she saw my throbbing arousal. She took the scissors from her smiling lips with her left hand, placed the right on the glowing spot on my chest, then looked back to Abigail, then to Hunter, who was still passed out, and back to Abigail again. “You really want to feel me inside you?”
“Yes,” Abigail squeaked, the anticipation and eagerness in her voice evident.
Emma grinned, that wide grin again. “Okay then.”
Her hand flashed and she stabbed the scissors into Abigail’s throat, a gout of blood spurting out and hitting me on the face.
Before I could react Emma had gotten a spear from somewhere and rammed it through my chest, pinning me to the bed.
Even as I was looking down I saw her pull the scissors from Abigail’s throat—Abigail’s own hands going there to try to stem the blood that gushed from the wound—and then Emma slammed the scissors through one of Hunter’s closed eyes.
Hunter’s body jerked, but she did not wake up.
I looked down at the spear going through my chest, going through that glowing light, as something red or blue or perhaps prismatic—I couldn’t tell because my vision was fading—leaked out from around the wound.
I traced the spear up and saw that it wasn’t a spear at all, but Emma’s arm, somehow turned sharp and metallic.
And I saw that her naked body was not human. It also wasn’t like any of the aliens I’d seen.
My eyes met hers, but they weren’t hers. They were some thing’s.
Something I’d never seen before. Something inhuman, beyond alien.
Something so far from what we know that it was blasphemous that it should have ever taken on such a form.
She must’ve seen my look of shock. “So easily deceived. You were so desperate for attention, you thought the nurse would fall for you if you saved her. But you can’t save her. I already killed her.”
My fading consciousness flashed back to when I first met her, how she seemed to actively dislike me. Then to when I hit her with the door.
“You hurt me,” she’d said, surprised, holding her bloody nose, but not in any apparent pain. How weird she had acted at first, how I’d thought it had just been because I’d given her a concussion.
I remembered how she had kicked in the door to the warden’s office. Kicking it so hard a screw came undone and hit me on the cheek.
Like a battering ram had hit it, I had thought.
I thought about how she’d never seemed to have been injured by anything else except that door I’d slammed into her. Thought of the car crashes she’d come out of completely unscathed, never even losing consciousness. Unable to be hurt by anything…
Anything except me. Just like—
“You’re…” I said, my breathing hard, my chest on fire, my lungs not working right, and my vision darkening as Abigail bled out beside me.
“An alien,” she finished, and twisted her blade inside my heart.
THIS ISN'T THE END!
Book 2, coming January 15th, is available for preorder now: https://amzn.to/2rD2V68
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In the meantime, check out my other novel, Chaos Rising:
1
Friday, December 22, 2051
Meredith White was crossing her arms.
This was not a good sign.
Samuel knew this was not a good sign.
And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. “What’s up, Whitey?”
This was funny, at least to Samuel, because Meredith White was always a hideous shade of orange from her knock-off NanoTan.
His other favorite joke was about her being a diversity hire, cause they didn’t have enough Orange employees.
“I’ll tell you what’s up, Mr Wilkinson,” said person now said primly. “Your time at this firm.”
The smile fell from his face like a dead bird through a parachute.
Audra Bailey, the dark-haired, blue-eyed, well-equipped seductress from sales who put him in the friendzone from the first time they shook hands on his first day at Heitenburg-Mara Law nearly two years ago, had warned him he was going to get into some shit with his wisecracking.
He should have listened to her.
That was becoming a reoccurring theme in his life.
Meredith White was smiling, her dark red lips pulling her orange face into something close to hideous. “Mr Osborn’s office. Now.” And with that, she finally uncrossed her arms and left Samuel staring after her, sweating and trying to figure out what he could have possibly been overheard saying this time.
2
Violet Wheeler entered her bedroom, holding her NU-Link case.
Today was going to be a good day.
She set the case down, then stood in front of her full-length mirror.
Smiling at herself, she stuck a thumb under the strap of the shirt she was wearing, slipping it off one shoulder, then the other.
She slowly pulled the top down, letting it stretch over her breasts until they popped free. She pushed the shirt down over her short shorts, then kicked it off into one corner.
Next, she unbuttoned her shorts, worked them free, and kicked these to the same corner.
Now all that was left were her panties, which were partially transparent.
She rubbed herself through these, enjoying the extra friction they added, then stopped, hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down. They briefly stuck to her wetness, then came free. She let them drop to her ankles, where she kicked them off to join the other discards.
She stood straight, admiring her naked body in the mirror. She’d worked hard for it. Sweat, even bled to achieve it. But she had a lot to show for her suffering.
She let her mind wander to all kinds of kinky scenarios as she ran her hands slowly over her hips, her firm stomach, her full breasts, grabbing these and squeezing hard.
Then she slid her hands down, and slipped one finger inside of herself, using the fingers of her other hand to gently stroke her clit.
She worked herself up nearly to the point of collapse, right before the edge of orgasm, then stopped.
Breathing hard, her hands shaky and fingers slick, she turned her fan on to low and set it to oscillate.
This done, she lay on her bed, relished the breeze from the fan on her naked skin for a few moments, the tingling of her hot, eager sex, then inserted the NU-Link, and entered another world.
Welcome to Nerathetan, the game told her.
She smiled, and sped through the character creation process, selecting an animus fury, changing the character sliders until she had cat eyes, ears, and tail, but no hair other than on her head and bushy tail.
When she appeared in the gameworld, there were already hundreds of other players around, and over a million total logged in.
Well, it had been out for several hours already. And this was the Capital of West Launia.
She completed the tutorial and received some starting items.
She only had one spell, but she’d remedy that quickly enough.
All she needed to do was find a man who played the beta—and who had started playing yesterday during early access—and seduce him.
It would be fun.
She lounged casually around town, her skimpy starting-outfit teasingly looser than it was supposed to be, showing off more than it should, waiting
to be noticed, swishing her tail lazily.
It didn’t take long.
He was also an animus. A big brute of a man, covered in fur, with a face half-way between wolf and human.
Not the most attractive, but he’d do.
For starters.
“Hi,” he said.
She looked at him, but said nothing.
“Want to group up? I’ve got a quest that—”
“Group? Sure. But, only if you make me your quest.”
He frowned at her. “I don’t—”
With one hand, she pulled her top down, revealing her breasts, then with the other, pulled aside her loincloth, revealing her aching sex that yearned to be filled as much here as in real life. A notification popped up, warning her about being naked where others could see, but she ignored it. “Why don’t we go somewhere we won’t be disturbed?”
3
Samuel reached in and knocked on the door to Mr Osborn’s office, which stood open.
On his way he’d passed by Audra’s desk, hoping to ask her if she knew what was up, since she always seemed to keep abreast with what was going on.
But, she had been out. Probably picking up lunch from Panera across the street because it was the closest place to get food and would take the least amount of time away from her workday.
That girl spent too much time working.
Mr Osborn glanced up at him, then returned his attention to the computer on his desk. “Sit down,” he said distractedly.
Samuel settled his bulk into the too-small chair.
He was pretty sure Mr Osborn chose everything in his office to make others feels as uncomfortable as possible.
Of course, Samuel was quite a big man, in all dimensions, so maybe Osborn hadn’t purposely picked a children’s chair for his interrogees.
“You screwed the pooch,” Mr Osborn said, pursing his lips.
Samuel frowned. “Sir?”
“Deleted the entire server. Woods is down in the server room right now, trying to recover everything.”
Somehow “server room” made it sound grander than it was. Their server room was literally just a room with a server, plus boxes of all the old paper records that the firm was too old-fashioned to stop keeping. So while it wasn’t incorrect, he bristled every time the non-IT staff called it that. They’d never seen a proper server room.
