Sorry for the wait, here is a 12 page chapter, Enjoy.  Last post was bad, so this is a repost.

-January 10, East of Reno NV-

“Officer Peterson, are you in route?”

The sound of my radio causes me to jump a little as I stare at the abandoned vehicle reported a couple hours ago off the interstate. 

I push the button on the radio hooked to the pocket of my brown outfit, “I am at location.” I respond to Catalina, the main dispatcher who works my shift.

“Roger that, what do you see?”

I tilt my head and take a step closer to the revolting scene.  The vehicle is covered in dust as if it’s been off roading, but that’s not the intimidating part.  The screwed up part is the ritualistic slaughter which has seem to have partaken on the hood of the truck.  Whatever sorry bastard was in this vehicle is now painted over its exterior like a smoldering rotten mass.  The spoiled smell is revolting and the only reason the vultures are staying away from the steaming heap of organs cascaded over the exterior of the car is because I am so damn near to it.

With every step the smell becomes heavier and heavier until a breeze picks up and I nearly vomit, using my own will to hold it back.  I sidestep to get a better view of the front of the vehicle.  There’s a pair of legs sitting just below the bumper which seem to have been ripped off the body, which still hasn’t been found, by massive teeth, shoes still on and everything.  That’s too much.  I gag and have to turn away, moving away from the gore.

“Catalina, it’s like a horror movie out there, someone was ripped apart by some kind of animal.  The car is covered like that person, or thing, intentionally spread the gore around on it.  Smell isn’t bearable. I found legs in front of the vehicle, but have yet to find any bodies.”

“Jesus Peterson, you’re not pulling our leg here are you?”

“Wish I was, out.”  I circle the vehicle at a distance, there doesn’t seem to be any window not covered in the dried red mess, nor is there any other body part beside the legs.  I’m unable to see inside.

I pull a latex glove out of one of the pockets on my belt just above my weapon and slip it onto one of my hands, “I’m going to check inside, I am unable to see what’s inside the vehicle, the windows are covered.”

“Not going to ask with what, dispatch has sent a crew out, please advise.” 

“Got it hun.”  I stick my face into the side of my arm to prevent the rancid smell from bleeding into my nostrils more than it has to and approach the driver door.  I reach my free gloved hand out and slowly try the handle, it opens.  The inside is empty; I am relieved to find no dead mutilated bodies in it. The back of the passenger seat however seems to be torn as if claws dug into it and the passenger seat has been forced forward and is bent down. On the back seat there are several droplets of blood and a torn rope with a smear of blood covering it.  There’s a dirty hand print on the inside of one of the windows in the back and a bit more scratch damage on the dashboard and steering wheel, but no blood. 

It seems whatever happened here started with some kind of struggle on the inside and escalated to the slaughter covering the car.  Were people transporting a dangerous animal inside the vehicle which broke out and killed them?  If so where are the bodies, where are the drag trails, why is the damage on the inside so minimal compared to the layer of blood painting the exterior?  Why did the beast spread out the blood instead of killing and moving on? What creature would do this?  Maybe it was a person, what person would do this?

I look over at the handprint on the back window again, it’s small, a child?  There’s blood on the handle, like whoever was there opened the door.  I back away and push my face tighter into my arm.  The smell is starting to penetrate my sleeve.  I walk around to that back door and look at the ground, catching something I didn’t see my first go around the vehicle, small droplets of blood on the ground.  I hear several squad cars pull up along the road behind me and at least one of them pulls off into the dirt. 

Backup is here.  I ignore, these small droplets don’t match the painting of the car and they seem to trail off away from the scene.  I carefully follow, making sure not to step on anything which may later prove to be evidence.  As I get away from the smell I pull my hand down.  The trail gets thicker as if whoever was bleeding slowed down allowing the droplets to occur more often.  A few more steps and I notice the trail bends around a low shrub. 

I carefully move around, my instincts tell me to have my gun out and ready to assault, but for some reason I resist.  If this is the same person that opened the door and got out then it must just be a child, possibly a traumatized victim, last thing they’d need is a gun in their face.  Fearing the worst I poke my head around the shrub.  Spread out on the ground just behind it is the naked body of a little girl, her shoulders and back are severely red, probably sunburn, and there are two different black melted holes in her body, one on the left shoulder and one in the back end of her knee—bullet holes. 

She tried to run and whoever caused that slaughter shot her in the back for it.  What the hell is this?  Why would she be nude?  Her body rises and falls slowly.  Shit, she’s still alive.  “I need help over here, this one is still alive!”  I disregard any caution of protecting the crime scene and drop in next to the girl, I slowly roll her over.  Her breathing is irregular and erratic, and she seems to show an increased amount of pain from the two bullet holes that appear to of melted their way into her skin.  Her face and chest are covered with blood, especially around her lips.  It is almost like she was the one to rip apart the bodies with her own mouth.  But that wouldn’t make sense.

I hear someone behind me on the radio and about a minute later a pair of paramedics with a stretcher comes over.  The man and woman push me aside and surround the girl. They check her pulse and feel her body for internal injuries before lifting her up and setting her on the stretcher.  The woman of the two then pulls a blanket out of a bag she brought with her and spreads it gently on the girl before they both lift and carry the child away from the scene.

For the first time since seeing the child I turn around to see about a dozen or so other officers around the scene in varying amounts of disgust.  Crime scene tape has already been spread out and at least two detectives are combing the area for evidence of what demonic thing has gone on here.  I don’t think they’ll find any more body parts, I really don’t.  It’s like something just ate the people here and left the child out to dry in the sun.

-January 10, Reno NV-

The sweat on my brow continues to run down my face and pressures my unprotected eyes.  I look down at the small steal object in my hand; I never thought I’d actually ever hold one of these.  I told myself I’d never have one of these nor get myself into a situation where one was necessary.  Should of told myself that promise was out the window the second I met Clare.  This is already my second time wielding a weapon and I’m sure there are still many more opportunities to come. 

I lift my other hand up slowly and wipe a piece of fabric I tore off my shirt earlier across my eyebrows to keep the sweet out of my eyes.  Next to the boilers it’s so Goddamn hot but I can’t move.  He’s right out there.  The bastard that was watching us in the restaurant before the turn, he’s just out there.  I don’t know how many bullets I put in him already but he keeps standing up and he keeps coming. 

I know Aleniese is on vacation and all with his dramatic exit but I could really use him right now.  He’s supposed to be some savior right?  He’s supposed to be sent out to find a champion to save the world, well how the hell am I supposed to save the world if he refuses to show himself during times of danger? 

I slide down the wall and watch the cursed fire light under the boiler in front of me.  It feels like it’s slowly burning the hairs off my legs if they aren’t gone already.  I’ve been trapped down here for close to twelve hours and every time I think the bastard is gone I see something move or hear a tool fall letting me know he’s still there lurking, waiting for me to make a mistake.  What does he want? Why is he after me?  Why did his minions and him take Lil? Where did they take her?

Damn.  We weren’t home for more than five minutes before they ambushed us in the motel.  After that it was chaos, guns going off, shit getting knocked over Lil locked herself in the bathroom, two of his minions went after her, it was a slaughter.  They shot her.  After that everything was a blur, when I woke I was in stuffed in the back trunk of my own car and it was parked. 

I guess whoever stuffed me back there didn’t expect me to wake up with my face pressed up against a damn pistol, I don’t know how the gun got there but I got my suspicions… I’m sure Clare hid it in there for emergencies.  I guess after that I was able to break myself out.  I didn’t take two steps before whoever was in the car realized I was out and slammed the gas, stranding me and the damn stalker at the gas station.  I couldn’t see into the car but I suspect Lil was tied up in the back.

There wasn’t time to look.  Out of the convenient store stepped a familiar face, that stalky tall man.  He saw the car gone, he saw me out, and he started moving on me, I shot him, I shot him several times in the chest but he just kept coming.  I ran, I ran and I ran.  He’s been chasing me ever since, stalking lurking.  He’s everywhere and waiting.  I’ve been in the damn warehouse for close to a day now and feel he’s just waiting for me to get hungry. 

Well that time has come, I am damn hungry, haven’t had a proper meal since I raided the fridge in this same room, and that food that was in there was eaten quite some time ago.  I’m going to have to face him, whoever or whatever he is and it seems I won’t be getting a demonic support party either.  Just watch me die Aleniese, give up and watch me die, it’s what your good at right?  Watching those you’re bound to die. So sit up in your white castle and watch my life end.  I’m calling, I’ve been calling for a while, but I can see you simply don’t give a shit anymore.

I slide the clip out and count the bullets remaining.  It’s completely unnecessary, I know exactly how many bullets are left, six, but counting makes me feel better, maybe I missed one, maybe there’s more and I just forgot.  No, there’s only six, six doesn’t seem nearly enough to kill whatever creature that man is. 

I take in a deep breath and slowly poke my head up over the window frame above me; I glance into the empty contents of the warehouse.  The only way out is on the other side of the open expanse through the large and very loud door.  To the left and right there are ladders with railings and a metal second floor which walkway leads to an open platform above the room I’m hidden in.  It’s nearly fact he’s up there, and it’s fact he’ll see me try to cross the expanse.  There’s no point in hiding, I’ll have to face him head on.

I lower the gun to my side, but keep it in a position ready to rise it up at a moment’s notice.  I slide around, keeping my head under the window frame and move up to the door.  I unlock the door, useless really to have it locked since there’s no window anyways, and stand up.  I’m going to have to be proud about this. 

With the gun to my side I take my first step out into freedom.  Another step and a third.  I pick up the pace, maybe he is gone.  “I see you have discerned to the conclusion that the dark is indeed not your comrade.”  The voice echoes from above, “I strongly encourage you to lower your weapon and surrender to me, this entire ordeal will sure be over soon.”  I lift the weapon up and turn to look above the boiler room I locked myself in some time ago.  There’s no one.

“There’s really no point in combat, you’ll find yourself severely outmatched in every component of the body and mind, there is no escape.” The voice is behind me again.  I turn to see the tall clean man right in the center of the room.

“Why are you following me?”

“You are my mark, my target, you and your idea will not succeed.  I’ll make sure of it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What idea?”  This is the first time he’s spoke since he chased me into the warehouse district. 

“You’re empire.”

“No such thing!” I lift my weapon and point it at him.

He doesn’t flinch, instead he speaks, “Go ahead, do it.  In the long run it won’t matter.  Nothing you have the power to do will matter, in the end you are just an insolent pathetic human with an oversized dog.”  That goes too far.  I drop the gun, letting it clink once on the ground and take a single long stride, “What are you going to do, hit me? I’m superior in every way.”

And I simply don’t care.  I step forward again and again and again until I’m right in front of the man.  He towers a good two feet above of me but his size has no effect at all.  I pull my fist back and lunge it forward.  The tall man begins to move, fast at first, before suddenly the only thing left moving is my hand.  He becomes a blur, a blink that’s supposed to go in an instant but seems to be frozen in place instead.  My fist inches closer and closer it looks slow to me but is so fast I can see the air particles break away at its incoming speed. 

My fist continues until it begins to pass through the blur, I feel myself stumble forward but something catches my foot and I’m able to prevent myself from tumbling into him.  With one hand through the speed blur of the man my other shoots for his face. I cup my hand over his face and push.  Time resumes.  He flies backwards and I go up into the air, but only for a bit before he crashes into the ground with me over him. 

I’m now on top of him, one hand through his center and the other squeezing down on his face as if I could just crush his skull.  “Wh—What are you?”  He manages.

“Better question is what are you?”  I twist my hand inside his chest, there’s no blood, there’s no moisture, it’s dry—like dirt.  “A golem?”  Like the one Clarine pointed out the day after I met her?  Must be.  “When you get back to hell tell your master she greatly underestimates a demon.” 

I push my legs down on him and rip my arm up as if I was pulling it through thick mud.  The slender man groans as I rip up his insides before everything about him melts into a pile of mud.  He wasn’t made nearly as well made as the one we experienced on the road, this one was just dirt and appeared as nothing more.  The last at least had blood when Clare shot it.  I pull my hand out of the mud and stand up, what’s left is a dirty suit.  I slowly shake my head, why the hell didn’t I just do that when he first cornered me in here? 

I reach down behind myself and retrieve the weapon I had dropped there before turning back to the exit.  I step on the mud and head for the exit, my freedom.  My stomach growls reminding me I haven’t eaten in a long time.  It won’t be much longer now; I didn’t get far from the gas station before he chased me into here.  As I get closer to the door I try to wipe the dirt off my hand, only managing to pollute the other with the drying mud. 

I reach my exit and push the door open.  The sun’s setting, but before I can really take that in I realize I’m not alone.  My senses spot two men walking through the warehouse park, I smell gunpowder and sweat.  Are they looking for me?  One turns, seeing me open the door.  There’s a smile and he puts a hand into the air, who is this man? “Mr. Ashe!”  Wait, that’s me.

I lower my defensive shoulders and slide the gun behind my back, not wanting to alert these people I have a weapon.  I step towards the couple and recognize brown suits and badges on their hearts, the police.  Why would the police be here, and why would they know me by name?  We meet in the center of the pavement between the buildings, on either side of us are the warehouses, a good large truck apart, most are locked up but there’s one near the end of the row which has an open door—no one’s here though.

I never really got a good view of the outside of the district before, but it seems like the place is abandoned, maybe once upon a time brick or stone was stored here, but it’s since been moved closer to a large city where it could have more opportunities for use, the buildings were just left here, about a dozen or so total. 

“We’ve been looking for you Mr. Ashe, the owner at the station said there was a shootout and you ran this direction.  Can you come with us?” they don’t look threatening so I’m not under arrest.  This is a bit odd, why would two police officers, after hearing of a shootout, just come for me unarmed?  I’m not in trouble, am I?  I did just kill someone, well—kind of if that counts—but they wouldn’t know about that.

“How do you know who I am?”

“A girl at a pretty serious crime scene called out your name upon in the hospital a couple hours ago, yours and none other.”  One of the officers says.

“We all know who you are because you were America’s most wanted for a few days there.  Whatever you did to deserve that it seems you’re keeping up the pace.  We’d just like to ask a few questions of you and her about what exactly happened,” the other speaks.

We were attacked in our motel, dragged out and driven away, I escaped and she must have too. Damn, but the police had to get involved.

“You got papers on that?”  The first one speaks again, he’s a tall man with a large belt buckle and fairly good size arms, he’s wearing sunglasses even if they aren’t needed and seems to be keeping both his hands to his side, hovering near his weapon, but not in a threatening way.  The other is at least two heads short of his partner and probably half the weight; he’s wearing a large hat to compensate for his size and similar glasses as the first.  It looks like the large one could toss the second one across the district like a pebble. 

The weapon, he’s talking about the gun.  “In my car…”

“Silver 2008 Chevy Malibu, recently purchased in California with California plates?” the small one speaks.

“Yeah…”  They know my car too.  Guess that’s the pretty serious crime scene they were talking about.  What did Lil do?

“Not in the best of condition.”

“Really.”  My voice goes flat.  I really can’t keep a vehicle for more than a couple days.  I should seriously just stop trying.  What the hell happened this time?

“Please hand over the weapon, slowly, my friend around the corner has a gun on you—there’s really no need for this, it seems in this case you’re the victim, we can figure out what happened later.  You look like you’ve been through shit, now slowly place the weapon on the ground and back away and we’ll forget you had one.”

That can’t be protocol.  I look into their glasses; not being able to see their eyes makes me uncomfortable.  I slowly pull the weapon out from behind me and lower it to the ground. Aleniese helped me in the warehouse; he could help me again here if needed.  I set the gun on the ground and step away. 

The small one goes over and picks it up before returning next to his larger buddy.  “Okay, let’s go to the hospital.”  He turns back towards the gas station.

“What about your friend around the corner?”

The larger cop smiles as he turns before saying, “What friend?”

Even if it is just a ride getting into the back of a squad car is uncomfortable.  The two don’t speak directly to me after getting in and only to the radio, which is too low for me to hear the other side of the conversation.  I’m uncomfortable with these two, something seems off, but other than my own paranoia I can’t seem to pinpoint what’s making me feel off. 

Though I don’t know where they are taking me they do take me to a building resembling a hospital, a structure about six to ten floors tall with narrow windows and a small parking lot in front of it.  There seems to be some sort of car park under the building but the officers pull the squad car right up to the red curb in front of the entrance and turn it off.

The little one steps out of the passenger side and opens the back door as if some kind of butler, “I’ll escort you to the room, then you can explain what occurred here.” Though not under arrest it sure as hell felt that way, the short officer keeps right on my side as the larger one moves off with the squad car.  He leads me through the hospital with an aggressive stride, the kind that causes people to move out of the way for fear of getting knocked over otherwise.  Even if this man is dwarfed by most people he has this big-man mentality to his stride that causes others to keep their distance.

We get to an elevator and he pushes the number for the third floor.  It is just him and I and we haven’t spoken a word to each other since the car—he won’t even make eye contact and keeps his sunglasses on, even if now we are inside and they are unnecessary.  The door opens and he walks out without even checking to see if I actually follow.  I do, the girl calling out my name can either be Lil or Clare—I have to make sure they are okay.  A left and two doors down he stops and opens a room, I am able to catch the number, Room 3008. Here I slow a bit coming to the realization that someone I know is probably in that room and probably hurt.

I wasn’t told how serious her injuries may be and I wasn’t told why they are in the hospital.  I approach the door the officer is holding open and poke my head around to see inside.  Lil. There in the bed crammed up against the window of the tiny room is a young girl tucked under the blanket, there are several IV’s wired into her from both sides of her body.  She looks so peaceful sleeping in the bed.

“Had to sedate her, she was going to tear the stiches.” The officer says as he moves over to the side of the bed and presses a small red button.  Within thirty seconds a doctor appears in the room.

The doctor looks up to see me in the hall and the officer at the side of the bed.  He pushes his way into the room and suddenly there’s hardly enough space to even get around the bed.  It’s like they shoved her into a broom closet refitted with top of the line medical equipment. The doctor turns to the officer before pulling a small square block out of his pocket, “I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not good for her.”

The policeman just looks at the doctor without flinching and the doctor breaks the block in half, he then bends over the bed and waves the block in front of Lil’s nose.  She takes one whiff and her eyes rocket open as if being awoken from a bad dream.  Her arms go ridged and clamp on the bed railings and she tries to lift her head, stopping as she feels the pain from whatever injury she has sustained. “Neel!” she shouts, looking around the room, several times seeming to see nothing.  “Neel!”

“What?” I say, trying to keep my voice calm to let her know I was there. 

She looks right at me but doesn’t quite seem to see me, “You’re okay.  Did, did you kill him too?”

I take one deep gulp and look at the doctor and short man, “Uh, no.” I say very defensively, “What are you talking about? I didn’t kill anyone.”  She’s quite, looking at me, but not quite right at me, “Uh, Lil, can you see me?”

She pauses and looks at my voice, “I can’t feel anything.”

“Local anesthesia, we had to surgically remove two bullets.” Says the doctor

“Why did you have to do that?” she mumbles, I don’t think she can see at all.

“Lil, can you tell the nice officer what happened, you were in an accident.”

She turns her head forward, then back at me, “Shoot the police?  I, I don’t like the police.  They tried to separate me and my dad when he stopped taking me to school.  Said he was a bad person.  He was just trying to protect me.”  She pauses, but her lips keep moving as if she’s talking under her breath to herself.  Her voice picks up, “Why can’t I see? Why can’t I move my legs?” 

“You were in an accident Ma’am.” The officer speaks.

“Tell him to leave; I only want to talk to you.”  The doctor turns to walk out without me even having to say anything while the officer remains, “I can still smell him.”

I look at the officer then back at Lil, he waits there for a bit then turns for the exit, “Five minutes, I’ll be right outside.  You better tell me everything or I’m putting your ass in jail for illegal possession of a firearm.”  As the officer exits he closes the door leaving only Lil and me in the broom closet.

“Lil,” I move up to the bed and kneel beside it.  Her arms on the railings relax and she slowly rests her head back on the pillow.  “What happened?” I move closer until my head is right above hers.

She blinks and those brown eyes of hers split into vivid hexagons.  My heart freezes and feels as if it goes into my throat, my arms grow weak and I nearly crash my head into hers, the last of my will keeping me up.  The world turns into vivid rings, smells become intense and features appear in her eyes I’ve never seen before.  Inside those hexagons are tiny shards of black, microscopic diamonds reflecting back ten thousand images of me.  The shards seem to float in her eyes and rotate, making me dizzy.  I look up and smell gunpowder, I smell sweat, mint gum, ink, but more overwhelming than all of that is that thick salt which seems to have left an intoxicating trail out of the room. 

I can see thousands of weaves on the blanked covering her and I can see through these weaves to the sheet covering the mattress, the mattress filled with millions of holes and built up with years of gray and black grime. “I ate him.” her voice is clear as day even if it’s so low even a normal person with their ear against her mouth wouldn’t have heard her voice, “I’ve never eaten anyone.  I ate all of him, I left nothing.” Her volume even grew lower, “It was disgusting, I felt sick, I wanted to vomit, my stomach felt like it was going to burst, it felt like his bones were going to break through and kill me. But they didn’t…

“I, I was so scared, I hated him so much, I meant to kill him—but, but I lost control, I never lose control.  I ate a human.” It is like talking about it brings back the memory.  She dry heaves once and I quickly grab her shoulder and lift it up.  Her body turns to the side and she puts her head over the opposite end of the bed.  She heaves again and vomit comes, a general brown mass with a slight red tinge.  She vomits harder and I see a little black circle through the sheets on her shoulder above her heart.  That is where she was shot. 

She heaves again and I shout, “Come in! Help!”  the doctor opens the door and comes in first to see she’s already evacuated half of her stomach onto the floor and the side of the bed. 

He pushes me out of the way and grabs her on the back, rubbing it while staying away from the bullet wound, “It’s okay let it all out,” he speaks as she goes on for another good minute or two. 

When she finally stops vomiting she rolls back onto her stomach as a nurse appears with water and a pan.  She is extremely pale now her face is sweaty, and she is breathing heavily.  “The, the other one got away.  I tried to run and he shot his gun at me four times and ran. I, I don’t know where.”

I step out into the hall and the police man follows, “What’d she say?” he asks.

“She tried to describe it, she was kidnapped with me, I was in the back and got out she must have caused a problem for the car to go off the road.  One of the men stepped out and—like a wolf or some beast came at him, tore him to pieces.  Both she and the one other man that took both of us ran from the beast, opposite directions, but the other kidnapper shot his gun at her four times before running off…  I think bringing back that memory made her sick, what the hell happened?”

“The man didn’t shoot at the beast?”

“She just said her, maybe the beast too, she doesn’t know.  I’m guessing all she remembers is getting hit and falling.  That bullet wound looks a lot worse than it should.”

The officer nodded in agreement, the bullet shouldn’t have melted the skin like that, “The surgeon said the bullet was still smoking and burning deeper into her flesh when he pulled it out, said if he hadn’t of gotten to it when he did it may have bored right into her heart.” Damn.  Who would do this?  Why would someone attack us?  I look back into the room at Lil panting on the bed, why would they shoot her?  Did the men from Alaska really chase us this far for that chest?  No, it couldn’t be them, that one after me was a golem. It clicks, that senior couple, Claire said she wasn’t dead.  Was it her?

I tighten my fist.  She’ll pay for this.  I’ll kill that bitch for this; I’ll kill her just like I killed her fucking golem.

-January 10, Las Vegas NV-

Sweat pooled on my brow, and that’s unusual because I don’t normally sweat, but today I am.  The police literally have an ocean of incriminating evidence in my truck and I know damn well that I’m number one or two on their top ten most wanted—now the fact that they know they have me may be something entirely different.

I’m sure the cops will love the jar of brains or the freshly removed human teeth.  I’m sure they’d go crazy over the vials of blood and human body parts.  I’m sure the FBI will be called in when they discover the shrunken head and the skulls. 

How the hell am I going to get out of this one?  I sense the sweat starting to run down my nose as I sit patiently on the retractable plastic bench.  They’ve got me in some kind of cell alone, I don’t think if they are sure if I’m a victim or criminal.  No one has really spoken to me except the man who put me here saying it’s for my own safety tell they can sort things out.  Really?  A terrified woman walks into a massacre and instead of feeding her latte’s and comfort they lock her in cell like she’s the one that committed it?

Nearly the entire day has gone by, processing, the cell, one meal and no human contact.  Why haven’t they questioned me?  Why haven’t they officially arrested me for the possessions in the car? The hairs on the back of my neck tingle and sudden chills flood my body.  The innate feeling I’m being watched causes me to slowly look behind me.  A hundred eyes of varying sizes cover the wall behind me causing me to launch myself up into the air and half way through the room. 

I catch one of the largest eyes in the center and lock with the deep green iris. Beyond the green is white followed by a blue eyelid which has been covered with sparkling gloss.  The eyelashes seem to protrude nearly a foot off the wall and as the eyelid blinks slowly once I can feel an icy breeze cross my skin.  “You’re a disgusting creature.” A voice comes from the bars. 

I turn to my left to see a tall skeletal man in a thin suit.  His skin is as pale as death and he’s wielding nothing except a black briefcase.  “Who are you?” I ask the man, brushing my hair back and straightening my back.  I probably look like trash in the orange jumpsuit I was given at the jail but that is because I had no clothing outside of crime scene when they, ‘secured’ me.

“None of your damn concern.  If I were to have it my way they’d find out who you really are and put you to death.”  He opens his briefcase and uses one arm as a table as the second pulls out a single sheet of paper.  He uses his arm to close the case and puts the paper on top.  “This is ridiculous, the font is so damn small. Over 600 counts of murder, 200 counts of fraud, you been stealing since you were sixteen, tax evasion, citizen evasion—technically illegal because you have no records in this country, narcotics, kidnapping, grand theft auto, rape, and trafficking.”

“Oh, if you count me being the victim.”

“Not three years ago when you helped Alberto and Francis by compelling those girls into their truck.  What did you think they were doing with the girls? Health checks?”

“Who the hell are you?”

“The only one stopping those cops from outright shooting your ass for what you’ve done, even though I think they should.”  He pauses and washes his hand across the paper, “There you’re all clear, and your truck is untouched.”  He crumbles the paper and shoves it violently into his pocket while turning to leave, “The boyfriend is at the Reno Hospital, Room 3012.”

“What the hell is this shit?” I snap, getting frustrated this random stranger is even here.

He turns back to me and puts a hand on one of the bars.  He puts his face up between two of the bars and annunciates, “Fuck you.”  Before turning and marching off, as he passes the edge of my cell I hear him mutter very low, “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

I turn back to the wall of eyes and see they all close simultaneously and sink slowly back into the wall.  Before I can even process what the hell just happened once of the sheriffs in brown walks up to my cage with a ring of keys and says, “You’re free to go ma’am.  We found a bag of clothing at the crime scene which appears to be yours and have checked it; the luggage will be at the front desk with your other belongings.  Sorry for the inconvenience, we had to sweep the car before releasing it.  Everything’s good, your story checks out.”

He slides the grate open and waves for me to exit the cell.  I walk down the hall like walking on ice, this can’t be real, there’s no way they’d just let me go.  The sheriff guides me to the front desk and as he said there’s my belongings, keys and actually two bags—mine and Neel’s.

The officer makes me change out of the jail clothes in the bathroom and return the orange jumpsuit.  Being back in my short jeans and a yellow blouse is amazing.  Summer clothes, clothes I normally only wear right after a turn when I’m looking to hook a man.  But today, today I need to celebrate whatever the rude man that knew everything was did.  He seems to have made all my worries go away.  All except one: he said my boyfriend was in Reno Hospital room 3012, why is he in a hospital, is he injured?  What happened to Neel?

I walk outside into the fresh air and admire the sun; it’s about half way through its decent at this point.  I look down at the parking lot and see my stolen truck parked in the visitor parking.  I walk over and before entering it walk around the back.  I peak inside the trunk to see all my belongings right down to the vials and the trunk are still there and the tarp is still tightly wrapped over them as if no one bothered to check underneath.  I set both mine and Neel’s pack on top of the trunk at the back end of the truck bed and walk back over to the driver side door.  I have to get to Reno, fast.

The drive to Reno is fast and there’s literally no traffic.  By the time I approach the hospital the sun has just crossed the horizon.  I take no time in finding visitor parking under the building before taking an elevator right up to the third floor.  The elevator opens to a hall and I take the direction that designates rooms 3001 to 3014.  I speed-walk down the hall crossing by an open room, 3008, which has a bed in the hall and a man in a full plastic suit cleaning the floor with a water hose and some sort of vacuum.

Three ten, three eleven, three twelve.  I don’t even knock.  My hand goes for the knob and twists as my shoulder pushes into the wood.  The door flies open.  First thing I see is that it’s not Neel in the bed; the body in the bed is much too small to be him.  Then I look over the bed to see him sitting in a chair.  There’s a hand out from under the covers and both his hands are cupping it.  The little head sticking out from the covers is pointed to him.  With the sound of the door crashing open that little head turns to me.

“Neel.” I say, catching his eyes as he to looks up at the ruckus, not noticing the click as I twist the bolt locked on the door.  He stands, pushing the chair away.  It takes three large steps for me to come up to the bed and my aura is able to take any and all attention he had on Lil right off her and onto me.  Lil lets go of his hand and pulls herself up slightly, she tried to give a fake smile, but I can tell the girl has no joy in having me break up her one on one moment with Neel.  “How is she?” I ask.

“She got shot, twice; it was the witch from the road that first day we met.  Her sight is getting better now and she told me she can feel her legs. I know it was that bitch that did this.”  My hand reaches down the bed and finds this remote hooked up to a tube of sorts with a single button on top. I dig my finger into the button and pull the plastic casing off the top, “We have to get back and her for this.  That bitch nearly killed Li—” I lean over the bed and touch my lips to his.  He forgets what he’s saying and reaches his hands up to cup my head, pushing his mouth against mine and his tongue against my fangs. 

I feel him poke himself on my teeth and taste his blood in my mouth, a little runs down my chin, “Ewe! Stop that!” I hear Lil as I push the button once. “Hey, what are you doing?” I dig my finger into the exposed plastic and pull the tiny switch back up against its will so I can push it again.  “S-stoop thaaat.” I hear Lil slur as she tries to reach blindly for the button secure in my hands while having trouble finding the end of her fingers or the button for that matter.  I pull the switch up and push it down again, a lethal dose of morphine for most humans her size, but I know as a wolf she can take quite a bit more.  Her body locks up and I see her head grow heavy as her hand dangles off the side of the bed.  I reach my hand over Lil’s face and swipe her eyelids down before finally grabbing Neel’s head and returning the delicious favor. 

I lean back, away from the bed and pull him over it.  His chest nearly flies over the bed as his legs catch himself, pushing hard onto the immobile legs of Lil, now in a painkiller induced sleep.  I lower myself partway to my knees and with shaking hands struggle to undo the four buttons on my blouse. 

Without letting our faces part I lean further down pulling him fully over the bed.  As I do so I unclip the last button on my blouse and hear it hit the floor and roll away from us.  I don’t even care as his manhood lands on my crotch, being blocked by our own layers of clothing.  There’s so much between us and I reach down to start undoing it.  First I reach for my own pants but with him rolling his tongue in my mouth it grows hard to concentrate.  It makes it even harder to find the button when his fingers push my bra up and find my nipples only to squeeze and twist them.

I moan as our lips part and I run my tongue down his neck.  I lick over the smallest pair of holes and remember that time when I sunk my teeth into him.  I want to sink myself into him again and prepare to just as he squeezes both my nipples causing my jaw to lock open and my body to arch.  I want him inside me ten times more than I want to feed off him.  I want him in me more than I ever had before.  I have no control of my body and no control of the situation; I’m totally at his will. I reach down again and try to undo my pants but once again struggle to find the button.  He seems to notice my shaking hands and one of his goes between our legs.  It finds my button like a black marble in a sea of white and pops it open. 

My smell is incredible and fills the room with a female wolf in full heat.  The odor is so intense I hear Lil cough in her sleep, that odor drives Neel into a bit of a frenzy.  Now suddenly he can’t wait as he moves away from my mouth to use both hands to yank first my pants then my underwear right down and off my body.  He unzips his own pants and his swollen manhood bounces out like it’s on a springboard.

I’m already breathing as if he just banged me and can feel my checks go flush red with the sight of his tool.  It’s bigger than I remember, much bigger than that moderate size it was before.  It seems he’s grown with the turn.  It also seems he’s grown more aggressive with the turn, not afraid to take the initiative.  All it took was a kiss and a man who hasn’t had sex with me in like a week is mounting up for his biggest assault yet.

Between heavy pants I say, “Fuck me.” And part my legs, pushing my crouch up at him.  This is not me, this has never been me, it’s always them begging, it’s always them pleading to be with me.  What changed?  Neel, he changed.

Just that encouragement is enough.  He looks down at himself and grabs his end; even he seems slightly shocked at the size as it’s grown at least an inch or two larger than the last time we screwed.  With his newfound size he finds it easier than ever to find my hole and enters with ease.  He pushes his manhood about half way into me and I already feel like I’m going to pop.

He pulls back and pushes into me again, unable to get any further because my insides grow too tight.  My body is shaking to the point where my limbs feel like jello as he tries to push into me even more aggressively and harder, unable to pass the current barrier.  This causes my body to spasm and grown even more taught on him.  I’m so driven with anticipation my body is actually making it more difficult for him to screw me. 

“Fuck me!” I say again, nearly screaming at him as I wrap my legs around his backside.  He pushes as deep as he can into my and I tighten my legs on him in hopes to help him get further, it hurts but he only gets a fraction of an inch further than before.  I want his entire member in me.  I don’t know why but I need his entire member in me even if it doesn’t seem at all to fit.  Getting angry and pulls back and pushes so hard I slide on the floor, he pushes again and again and again getting the smallest amount further into me every time and pushing us a bit more along the tile. 

The pain is good, the tearing inside is good, the stretching is good, everything just blurs into a dizzying mass of perfection.  I’ve been waiting for this bang for weeks and it’s finally come upon me.  Each push he does is harder and more aggrieve than before.  He’s stopped being that shy boy that let me play with his body and has turned into the alpha male he’s meant to be.  I shouldn’t love losing control to him but I absolutely adore it.  He pushes super hard and my head slams into the wall right next to the door.

Shock, a daze, the world twirls.  I lose control of my legs as he pushes into me so hard it tears by boundaries no penis should ever cross all because for that moment all the restriction, all the craze, and all the tightening was let loose in the confusion.  I start to scream but before even a millisecond of it can get out his hand is over my mouth, muffling me. 

He pulls out.  It feels as if the head of his manhood has swollen and is trapped inside me and all pulling out is doing is causing his enormous rod to stretch, designed purely to stimulate me. He pushes into me and it feels as if two feet slides through my tunnel even though that’s physically impossible.  Even he recognizes this difference, but recognition doesn’t mean stopping.

He stretches my insides further and further as his pole swells inside me.  It turns from smooth to bumpy and he starts pounding me so hard my insides go numb as my juices squirt out for relief.  My ears start ringing, my vision becomes less clear and hazier as my panting comes so fast I feel like I’m going to suffocate myself with the rapid breaths, and all my senses grow numb.  All I can feel is him inside me, all I can see is him inside me, all I can taste is him inside me. 

My core is all that’s left of me. It’s the only that that hasn’t broken down.  It’s my life force, my being, my soul trying to escape from crevice.  It turns into fire down there and it feels as if my body is humming, preparing for something, I don’t know what but something.  I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to, I wouldn’t stop him.  I’m at his mercy.  At this very instant Neel could tell me to strangle myself and I’d do it with my own two hands.

I waiting for the pleasure, I’m waiting for the ultimate orgasm, for him to blow his massive load deep inside him right before I come so hard I black out, I’m waiting for it—for the bliss I know is soon to come.  It gets closer to the moment, closer and closer and closer.  It’s so intense I want to die.  I want to kill myself right now.  I want him to wrap his arms around my neck and chock out all my life.  I can’t bare it anymore.  I can’t stand it.  It’s too much.  I want him to stop but can’t tell him to.  The climax isn’t going to happen.  It’s just going to kill me.

The fire inside me turns into molten lava, it turns like sulfuric acid.  I try to scream but his hand is over my mouth, I try to pull away but he does one large trust into me and holds himself there.  He burns a hole into the backside of my womb.  All my senses come back at once and I stare into these deep green hexagons staring back at me.  His eyes have turned into vertical slits with billions of fluid black shapes twirling within them. 

In those eyes is all meaning.  In those eyes I see my life as it has amounted to so far, my death, I see children, a family.  I see him I see him a hundred times, a thousand times.  I see him taking me to bed over and over.  I see myself not wanting him but being given no choice.  My belly is always big—triples, four more, two more, another half dozen, dozens of children, all mine. I have to take care of them, I have to nurse them, and it’s not but a few days after birth before he takes me to bed again and again and again.  It’s horrible.  It’s wonderful.  It’s everything I wanted but everything I hated.  Trapped, I’m stuck, it was never him being mine. It was never going to work out like that.  I’m his; I’ll always be his forever and always.  I’m his bitch now.

He blinks, I’m able to turn away, and notice I’m crying, not just a single tear but rows of them flowing down my face.  I don’t know how long I’ve been crying but its long enough.  His swelling has decreased incredibly and that bit of him that was much too deep in withdraws from my womb.  I feel relief, I feel like I can be me again, like I’m free, but that burning pain he bore into the back of my womb, I still feel it, stronger than ever. 

Inside me his rod morphs back into a standard shape with its head and long shaft—not nearly as long as it was before, but still big enough to hit the end of my passage.  He pulls himself out of me.  My heart rate slows and I start to control my breathing.  My crevice burns like a virgin getting it rough for her first time.

I look down at the mess he made, to my surprise there is no blood, but his rod is covered with this strange yellow puss.  The tip of his rod is bright red and he’s as erect as ever, so hard I can see the nerves protrude from the outside of his shaft.  He hovers over me thinking of what to do with his monster.  “No more… no more.” I gasp, seeing it unconceivable to have that beast go all rough inside my broken pussy.  A burning wave comes from inside me and I’m pretty sure I’d be unable to stand or walk for quite some time.  “No more,” I speak again. 

My legs hurt so much I can’t move them and the pain between them is so intense I don’t even think of moving my arms.  But he’s not done, I knew in all that, whatever that was, he never actually came.  What did he do then? What was that feeling, what was that vision I saw in his eyes? Oh—it connects, he marked me.  He put his imprint inside me that claimed me as his and only his. The visions were a fabrication of the mark, nothing short of fiction.

He finally decides what he’s going to do and one of his hands hooks onto my leg, pulling me away from the wall while flipping me over.  Behind me I hear him spit then feel his finger playing with my anus, poking into it bringing the saliva along with it.  “No,” I hiss, too low for him to actually hear, my body is so beaten I didn’t want anything more to do with him but at the same time I have this deep need to satisfy him even if I, myself am in no position to be satisfied. 

His hands go by my side and I feel the tip of his rod poke at my backdoor.  I close my eyes in anticipation of pain as he slowly pushes into my rear.  It hurts at first but once he slides in everything goes numb. He pulls himself up and goes back in, bringing the lubrication of my rear up and making my backside moist.  He’s a lot gentler than before, but even though he’s in my anus it still burns every time my expanding colon pushes into my cannel.

He keeps this slow pace for some time and I breathe in unison with his thrusts to minimize the pain. Finally after what seems like twenty minutes of vaginal and then anal screwing he grunts and blows his load.  Filling my rear with his hot seed in much larger quantities than he’s ever came before.  He slowly pulls himself out and his seed flows after him sprouting out of my rear.  I feel it come out in small chunks as he steps away from me. 

I lift my head and look behind me to see him at the torn apart button for Lil’s painkiller, pushing it one last time to make sure she doesn’t wake up any time soon.  I feel his seamen all over my legs and rear but don’t even have the energy to lift my arms or even to move my bra or button the blouse still somehow on my shoulders.  Never before have I been so exhausted, never before have I been so tired and beaten the day after the turn.  How the hell did he do this to me so damn fast?