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I pull her closer and closer. I would pull her inside of me if I could. My touch gets harder, and I flex my hands against her back, trying to control their force but struggling. Her fingers remain soft, her nails no harder than a newborn Mpo’s claws as they scrape over the scales on my shoulders down to the skin on my chest. That does not ease my frightening need at all.
Her heat is smothering, and as I take another step, I nearly run her over. Pull back.Pull back, I tell myself, but the words in my mind have no effect on my body as I take her back to the bed, grab the front of her hideous clothing and tear it apart.
I toss her onto the mattress and cover her anew, hating myself the entire time that I rut into her beautiful, damaged body. I should have known better than to mate with her last night. I am Mpo, an aberration, coveted only for my violent parts, and she is a soft thing, a perfect owelay. I have no business mounting her, seeding her, desiring her…
Yet mount and seed and desire I do, with my entire ruined heart.
ChapterTen
Rhen
Holy shit! This is the most fun a girl can have with her clothes off. Whatever strangeness is going on with his cock is rocking my socks off. Literally. Earlier when he came toward me looking very much like he wanted a kiss, he’d been strangely…gentlemanly about the whole thing. I could have backed off and I’m pretty sure he’d have let me. But what did I do? I dug my nails into his shoulders and let him tear my clothes to shreds.
He managed not to pass out on top of me this time. Instead, he came inside my body, he bit my neck, his cock did that crazy expanding thing again that caused me to orgasm three or four times without him having to do anything but stay seated fully inside of me. I screamed like a banshee while he grunted very demurely, and then after the whole thing was done, he flung himself off of me, ran his hands angrily through his hair between his horns, yelled at me in a garbled shriek that made my heart damn near explode, and then shoved a cup of water and a tray of food at me before storming off.
I sit there for a few moments, chewing, chewing, drinking, drinking, waiting, waiting for him to return. He doesn’t. The sun streams down prettily through the hole in the top of the tent, little dust flakes dancing through it. I start to relax, sink back onto the mattress—the ruined mattress—but the moment I stack the two measly pillows behind my back and lean against them, Pam is there to do what she does best.
Be a buzzkill.
“Rhen, the probability of the participants of the Sucere Chamber surviving decreases every moment you spend in the company of the species…”
“Yes, yes yes yes. Fine. I get it, okay? I’m going.” I amble off the bed, tear a swatch of my suit free because there’s no sink in here, or a rag, dunk my uniform swatch into the pitcher and then do my absolute best to get the cum and blood off my skin. “Fuck it,” I hiss, realizing I’m not getting very far. I’ve never had sex with a monster before, so to say I was unprepared for the quantity of fluids would be an understatement.
A milky white paste leaks out of my vagina in a steady stream and coats my inner thighs, which are already coated in a sticky sheen from last night. Scrubbing fiercely until my skin turns red, I get most of his cum off of me, but my little swatch of fabric is gross, and if I tear another one free of my uniform, I won’t have much uniform left.
I huff. “I guess I’ll just shower at the Chamber.” I rip out one of my shoelaces, tie the top of my torn suit together so that it mostly conceals my bra-covered tits, grab as much food as my pockets will carry and the entire pitcher of water since I don’t see anything resembling a canteen, and bolt.
It takes me two minutes to realize that this is a bad fucking idea. The sun, which seemed so pretty and pleasant inside his tent, is a menace out here. Brilliant and blinding, it takes me blinking wildly and squinting fiercely against the horizon to find my bearings. Pam issues a few curt instructions and I take off.
“Rhen…” she says as I take my first few steps. “Rhen, you are currently two miles from the Sucere bunker entrance. If you proceed due north and continue at a pace of four miles per hour, you will arrive at the entrance well before nightfall which, according to our previous calculations, will happen in approximately nine hours…”
“Thanks, Pam.” I switch my gaze from the wristwatch on my arm to the encampment over my shoulder, glad that my demon has positioned himself on its outskirts because there aren’t any tents between me and the horizon or any humanish people to stop me from reaching it. “So uh…which way is north?”
After a couple failed attempts, I manage to find north and take off at a jog. A few minutes in, the delusion comes over me that I’m doing pretty well. I mean, I may be covered in blood and semen, a small trickle of which is most definitely leaking down my leg and into my boots, but once I get this door closed, I can come back to the camp and meet back up with my new friend. We may not be able to share secrets or paint each other’s nails, but I’m getting dicked down way better than I ever did in the old world.
Ah. My avó Maria—a free-loving woman in her heyday—would be so proud. She’s probably shedding a happy tear for the monster whore I’ve become now.
I chuckle, thinking about her while I chew angrily on whatever meaty substance I have in my pocket. I have no idea what it is, and it definitely doesn’t taste like chicken. It tastes more like octopus with that same rubbery, cartilage-like consistency and absolutely no identifiable flavor. My throat works on the single piece of meat for so long that I debate hacking it up but no, I need sustenance if I’m going to maintain the same sexual lifestyle I’ve already gotten used to, and right now the heat of the sun is melting my powers.
I usually made sure to go outside near daybreak and dusk when I was still fantasizing about growing green beans and being the best possible Sucere participant. And even when I did go outside during the hotter parts of the day, I never exerted myself like this. And later, when I was dragged out of the Chamber, I must not have paid attention to the sun, what with the giant jellybean and the first sighting of the demon shifter monsters a successful distraction. But now that I’m out here alone with nothing but Pam’s disapproval to buoy me, I’m feeling weighed down by it—alot.
I glance toward the sky and wince, unable to open my eyes if I look any farther up than the horizon. I focus on my feet. My shiny black boots, dotted with flecks of paint, kick up dust with every step. The sand is packed hard beneath my feet, covered in a light dusting of soft granules and rough pebbles.
I crouch as a wave of dizziness comes over me and bring the pitcher to my mouth. Gulping down as much water as I can without falling over, I plant one hand between my feet, steadying myself. The ground is so hot, and I can feel a pounding within it, like the beating of the planet’s heart. I know that the feeling is faraway movement, tremors through the soil, but I imagine for now how I’d paint this exact sensation. Short brushstrokes. Impressionistic. A bloody, beautiful heart surrounded by white light and maybe a demonic monster above it, holding out his hand, calling to me…
Nervously, I check over my shoulder, the sound of screeching in the distance freaking me the fuck out. No one has come for me, though, and I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved by that.
After Pam tells me that I’ve made it half a mile, I turn around to see a massive sail take shape over the camp, which looks sprawling from here. I wonder how many members make up this tribe, what their aims are, where they collect food and water, if they’re nomadic, if they interact with any other tribes, and what those are like. Or maybe they’re the last. Is this all that’s left?
I feel like I should feel more freaked out by that thought, but I don’t. Actually, I feel a little…proud? Humanity wasn’t supposed to have survived at all, according to the architects of the Sucere Project. There were other bunkers, too, run by organizations and governments, some by individuals who thought they knew best how to outlast the Fall. And who knows? Maybe, they did. Maybe, they’re still out there. All I know for certain is that these people—creatures, beings—have adapted to thesurfaceworld. They’re here, outlasting and evolving, fighting jellybeans and making this place their bitch.
I turn to face the camp fully and take another breather. I drink from my pitcher and chew on more of the weird octopus as I watch the sail take flight. I don’t know if it’s my poor eyesight, but it looks like some of the tents are collapsing. No one’s come after me—not that I expected or wanted them to—but I wonder if anyone’s even noticed I’m gone yet. They don’t care.Hedoesn’t.
I frown a little, feeling a bit…unsure…as it occurs to me that even though I mightwantto return to the monster, maybe he’s glad that I ran. He’s been cold to me anytime he hasn’t been burning hot, pushing me away as soon as he’s done using my body. I shudder and take off again, my almost-empty water pitcher still clasped in my fist.
I haven’t asked Pam yet what she thinks. Does she think it’s a good idea to stay with the monsters? Or would she recommend hunkering back down in the Sucere Chamber until I get bored and off myself? I mean, judging by my track record, I’m pretty sure my overly optimistic plan to grow my green beans and restart humanity is out.
I know what avó Maria would have said. She’d have said good sex and exploring would be worth almost anything—and she was the one who raised me after my parents were killed in a bombing when I was sixteen.
