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Chapter 8- New Year, New Me Clearview University- North Campus. 05:44 MST. 20-Dec-20XX. REDACTED location. The SUV hummed steadily as it cut through the snow, tires whispering over packed ice. On the side was the emblem for BLACKWELL, Bio-Level Authority for Containment, Knowledge & Epidemiological Lockdown. It had been formed shortly after the Helixion Event claimed their entire team, Black Sigma, just 3 months prior. The windows were darkened, the interior lit only by the dull glow of the instrument panel bleeding in from the front. In the passenger seat, Tobias Vahn leaned back with one boot braced against the floor, a bag of hastily eaten fast food resting loosely between his knees, looking far too relaxed for a man headed into quarantine. Elias Kade sat beside him, rigid, arms folded, eyes fixed on the blurred white landscape sliding past the glass. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the checkpoint. “So,” Tobias said finally, breaking the silence like he always did, casual and careless. “What’re your Christmas plans?” Elias’s head turned slowly. The look he gave him could have frozen the engine block. “Playing dumb now, are we? Didn’t your brother already tell you how thrilled I was opening the care package your mother sent?” Elias asked flatly. Tobias grinned. “Trevor? Oh yeah. He mentioned it all right.” He nudged Elias’s side lightly with his elbow. “Said Mom sent the onesies already. Red nose. Felt antlers. Just for the newest member of the family.” Elias looked away again. “Don’t you dare call me Rudolph.” That only made Tobias laugh. “Don’t even try to deny enjoying the tradition. I bet Trev already asked you to guide his sleigh.” Elias didn’t respond. He shifted in his seat, jaw tightening, and after a beat deliberately changed the subject. “Just… give me the rundown, Tex.” Tobias straightened a little, the humor draining just enough to let something professional surface. “All right… Reaper.” He tapped the tablet mounted to the seat in front of them, pulling up the case file. “Frat house. Phi Alpha Gamma.” Elias nodded, activating the turn signal and slowing down at their exit. Tobias snorted. “Jesus… what a name.” Elias looked over at him and let out a bored sigh looking at him. “What’s so funny now?” “Phi Alpha Gamma… FAG House? Really? Whatever… keep forgetting you never were part of the Greek system…” Elias rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the road. “Anyways… Seven residents,” Tobias continued. “All male. All enrolled. All failed to show for finals. Campus security did a welfare check after a few professors escalated.” The SUV passed under a streetlight. For a moment, Elias’s face was starkly illuminated—focused, alert. “Security found signs of a struggle,” Tobias said. “Furniture displaced. Decorations destroyed. No bodies. No sign of forced entry however.” “Local PD?” Elias asked. “Called in. Then immediately sent away once preliminary forensics came back.” Tobias scrolled. “Multiple biological residues found on site. Samples confirmed as bodily fluids. All samples tested positive for HIV-3, complete with the markers for human mutagen variants.” Elias closed his eyes briefly. Opened them again. “Quarantine?” “Full lockdown,” Tobias said. “BLACKWELL took jurisdiction. Media blackout in place. Anyone who came in contact tested, no positives in anyone.” The SUV slowed as they approached the perimeter. Flashing hazard lights reflected off the snowbanks ahead. Tobias glanced at Elias. “We were too late,” he added quietly. “Again.” Elias didn’t answer. He reached for his respirator, already slipping back into mission mode. The SUV rolled to a controlled stop just short of the cordon. Red and amber lights pulsed against the snow, painting the night in slow, warning colors. Beyond them, the frat house sat dark and ordinary, its porch light burned out, windows black. It looked abandoned in the way only places that shouldn’t be empty ever do. Tobias flicked the tablet fully toward Elias. “A’right,” he said, business now. “Names, faces, and what we know.” Elias leaned in, eyes tracking as Tobias scrolled. Each profile slid past with the same sterile formatting—photo, age, role in the house, medical notes. Normal kids. Normal histories. Nothing that justified a BLACKWELL response on its own. “Campus security went in first,” Tobias continued. “They thought it was booze, finals stress, maybe a prank gone wrong. Found overturned furniture, broken ornaments, the tree down. No blood. No bodies.” Elias’s gaze sharpened. “But I’m sure plenty of biologicals.” “Damn… looks like everywhere,” Tobias said. “Floors. Furniture. Basement stairs. Maintenance room.” He paused. “That’s when PD backed off and called us.” He tapped a file and brought up lab results. “Semen. Urine. Saliva.” Elias didn’t react outwardly, but his shoulders tightened. “Like I was saying, all samples were positive for HIV-3 and HMV…” Tobias added. “Extremely high viral load. Uniform markers.” Elias exhaled slowly through his nose. “That doesn’t happen by accident.” “No,” Tobias agreed. “Which is why the house is locked down. Quarantine radius established within the hour. Media blackout—‘carbon monoxide leak’ for now.” “And the missing?” Elias asked. “Seven residents,” Tobias said. “No confirmed sightings since the night before finals. Phones dead or abandoned on site. No exit footage. Nothing on traffic cams.” The SUV’s engine idled softly. Snow tapped against the roof like static. Tobias hesitated, then scrolled further. “One more thing.” Elias glanced up. “What.” “Frat vice president,” Tobias said. “Derek Vance.” He brought the file up and held it there. “Medical history includes a confirmed CCR5-Δ32 mutation.” Elias went very still. Tobias didn’t look at him as he continued. “Same mutation you have.” Silence stretched between them, thick and loaded. Elias nodded once. “Meaning resistance,” he said quietly. “Not immunity.” “Exactly,” Tobias replied. “Which means if he’s involved—” “—then maybe we have a chance at a new ally,” Elias finished. They both looked toward the house again. The lights ahead flickered as a generator kicked somewhere in the perimeter. The snow kept falling. The frat house remained dark. Whatever had happened inside it had selected its targets carefully. And it hadn’t finished speaking yet. — They suited up in silence. Respirators sealed with practiced ease, filters clicking into place with the soft, final sound of containment protocols engaging. Tobias adjusted the straps at Elias’s shoulder automatically, muscle memory from other sites like this—places where the air itself had become a liability. “Feels festive,” Tobias muttered, glancing at the snow piling against the curb. Elias didn’t answer. His eyes were on the house. Phi Alpha Gamma sat behind police tape and portable floodlights, its Greek letters still bolted proudly above the door. Someone had tried to decorate for Christmas. A string of lights drooped unevenly along the porch railing, half of them dark. One red bulb blinked intermittently, slow and tired, like a failing pulse. They crossed the threshold together. The front door stuck before giving way with a dull crack, wood warped by cold. Inside, the smell hit immediately even through the respirators—stale beer, the reek of cigar smoke, pine sap, old urine, something metallic beneath it all. The air felt wrong. Not thick, exactly. Just… used. Tobias swept his light across the living room. The Christmas tree lay on its side near the television, ornaments shattered across the floor like glittering debris. Tinsel clung to the couch cushions. One stocking hung torn from the mantle, its contents spilled and trampled. “No forced entry,” Tobias said quietly. “Whatever happened, it started inside.” Elias moved slowly, methodical. His gaze tracked details Tobias knew better than to ignore: drag marks in the carpet, smears on the arm of the couch already flagged with biohazard tape, a half-empty beer bottle knocked beneath the coffee table. The television was still on. Static hissed softly, filling the room with white noise. Tobias frowned and muted it. The sudden quiet felt heavier than the sound had. “Basement?” Elias asked. “Eventually,” Tobias said. “But let’s finish the main floor first.” They moved deeper into the house. The kitchen showed signs of interruption rather than chaos—chairs pushed back, a case of bottled beer stacked neatly near the counter as if someone had been in the middle of moving it. A faint trail of boot prints led toward the back hallway, then vanished. Elias stopped near the couch. “There,” he said. Tobias followed his line of sight. A single gift box sat on the center cushion, perfectly upright amid the mess. Red wrapping paper. A crisp silver bow. Untouched by the surrounding destruction. Two names were written on the tag in neat block letters. FOR TEX AND REAPER Neither of them moved for a moment. “Forensics couldn't have missed that,” Tobias said softly. “No,” Elias agreed. “That’s for us. Seems someone must have snuck in and left it for us.” The house creaked around them, settling in the cold. Somewhere deeper inside, a pipe knocked once and fell quiet. Elias stepped forward. “The Alpha wanted us to see this.” Elias stared at the box for a long moment before touching it. Protocol said to wait for a containment tech. Protocol also said do not interact with unknown media devices. But nothing about this scene had followed protocol so far, and the longer Elias looked at the box, the more certain he became that it wasn’t going anywhere on its own. Tobias shifted beside him. “You want me to call in a team and—” “No,” Elias said quietly. “If this is meant to be seen, it’s meant for us. I’m sure he wouldn’t leave us any clues on it.” He picked it up. The box was light. No ticking. No vibration. Inside, nestled in cheap green tissue paper, was a single black flash drive. No logos. Just plastic and metal, clean and deliberate. Elias’s jaw tightened. Picking it up and turning it around before finally seeing the small Korean anime girl etched on the case. “Of course,” Tobias muttered. “One of Pixel’s, I’m sure. Because who else would leave us such a clue?” They exchanged a glance. Then Elias walked to the television, inserted the drive into the side port, and stepped back. A single movie file was on the drive, and grabbing the remote, Elias selected it and hit play. The screen flickered. Static gave way to video. At first, it was hard to tell what they were seeing. The footage was shaky, handheld—someone laughing just out of frame. The camera swung wildly, catching glimpses of the frat house interior they were standing in now, but altered. Darker. Warmer. Lit by blinking red and green Christmas lights that were no longer there. Then the figures came into view. Tall. Inhumanly broad. Black, glossy skin reflecting the lights like polished stone. Horns curved from their heads in shapes that felt intentional—decorative, even. Several of them turned toward the camera at once. Each one waving at the screen. Their old team. Tobias inhaled sharply. “Jesus…” More figures moved into frame. Young men. Naked. Smiling. Elias’s stomach dropped as recognition set in—faces from the files he’d read in the SUV. Noah. Evan. Paul. Zach. Ty. Bran. All standing among the creatures as if they belonged there. All in advanced stages of being transformed. Every one of them looked altered in horrifying ways: posture too relaxed, expressions too vacant, eyes pure black. Horns starting to grow out of their heads, skin grey, teeth sharp and glistening. Their movements were uncoordinated but eager, like performers waiting for a cue. Except one. Derek Vance stepped into the center of the frame, pulling a chair behind him and slumping into it with a happy smile. He looked… unchanged. Mostly. Still human in shape. Still smiling the same easy, arrogant smile from his student ID photo. A cigar hung from his mouth, ember glowing as he took a slow drag but his pupils were blown open, with black veins creeping off around them. “Hey, Tex. Reaper,” Derek said cheerfully, waving at the camera. “Or would you prefer Toby and Elias? Hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.” Tobias froze. “He knows us. What a cocky little shit.” Derek laughed, smoke curling around his face. “Let me guess… Tex just said something cutting… Just so you both know, we already knew you both would be coming. We figured it’d be rude not to leave you something to open for Christmas. Don’t bother checking for anything of use on the box or drive… we made sure to hide our tracks.” He gestured behind him. The creatures shifted. The transformed frat brothers moved closer together. Someone off-camera began humming. The tune was unmistakable. Elias felt his blood go cold. The camera tilted, capturing a line of creatures standing behind each transforming frat guy. As if on cue, Derek walked over to who Eli guessed was Gravestone, the largest in the group, and quickly backed himself onto the massive cock with a groan, pulling out the cigar out of his mouth and locking lips with him before placing it in Gravestone’s mouth. Gravestone grinned at the camera and smacked Derek’s ass hard. For a brief moment they all stood there, and then it began. Each one of their former teammates took a turn, slamming their dick hard into their frat boy, as each frat boy began to individually moan in key each word to “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” Tobias turned away instinctively, letting out a muttered curse, but Elias couldn’t. His eyes burned. His hands clenched at his sides. Right as they reached the final part of the song, they sang in unison. “We wish you a Merry Christmas…” The camera rotated again as the sound of growls and moans echoed out into the room, each man cumming on the floor or into a frat brother. The camera stopped moving and faced the one holding it. The Alpha. Larger than the others. Horns more elaborate. Its grin was wide, teeth gleaming. It lifted one clawed hand and waved slowly at the lens. The gesture was almost friendly. The video cut back to Derek, with his cigar back in his mouth. His eyes were fully black now. “And a Happy New Year, Elias. We’re coming for you soon.” “Fucking bastard,” Elias whispered, jaw clenched. “Our master wanted me to say we’re long gone,” he said pleasantly. “Too late again, buddy. But don’t worry though—he’s very excited to see you.” He leaned closer to the camera drawing on his cigar and blowing it at the camera, before blowing a kiss at it.. The screen went black. The house was silent again. Tobias swallowed hard. “Elias… what in the actual fuck…” Elias didn’t answer. He was staring at the dark screen, his reflection faintly visible in it. The Alpha hadn’t just escaped. It had planned this. And it knew exactly who was coming next. Like it had a fucking crystal ball or something. Silence held the room long after the television went dark. Elias was the first to move. He reached up and pulled off his respirator, dragging in a sharp breath that tasted like dust and disinfectant and something older underneath. Tobias followed suit more slowly, rubbing a hand over his face as if that might erase what they’d just seen. “That was some psy-ops level shit right there. Tell me you’re as fucking disgusted as I am,” Tobias said finally. “Please.” Elias shook his head once. “Too coherent. Too… personal. He’s playing with us now.” He crossed the room and knelt near the couch, careful not to touch anything. The gift box sat open where he’d left it, innocent now, like it had never held anything at all. Around them, the house felt suddenly smaller—walls closing in, shadows pressing closer. Elias tapped his comm. “BLACKWELL Command, this is Reaper,” he said. His voice was steady, even if the rest of him wasn’t. “We’ve confirmed contact with the Alpha. I repeat, confirmed. Evidence recovered includes direct communication, pre-recorded taunting, and proof of full conversion of all seven subjects.” A pause. Static crackled faintly. “Copy that, Reaper,” came the reply, clipped and controlled. “We were able to see it ourselves from your live feed. Upload all the data immediately. New orders are pending.” Tobias leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight over his chest. “They left it for us,” he said quietly. “Not just the video. The house. The scene. Like a god damn calling card.” “Yes,” Elias said. “And a warning.” His comm chimed again. “Reaper, listen carefully,” Command said. “Site status is now a Level 5 Quarantine. No recovery. No rescue. No pursuit beyond perimeter. You are to disengage and await further instruction.” Elias’s jaw tightened. “Disengage,” he repeated. “With respect, Command, the Alpha is mobile. It’s recruiting. It knows our identities.” “We’re aware,” Command said. “Which is why this just escalated to Level 5. BLACKWELL is assuming full jurisdiction. A joint task force is being assembled.” Tobias let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Another fucking task force. Great. Like the last one they got.” “Tex,” Elias said softly, without looking at him. Command continued. “Reaper, there’s another factor. Medical flagged something in the subject files you reviewed. Derek Vance.” Elias didn’t respond immediately. “Yes,” he said after a beat. “I saw it.” “The CCR5-Δ32 mutation,” Command confirmed. “Same as yours.” Tobias straightened. “Your point being?” “The guys in the lab here think it likely explains why he reacted differently,” Command went on. “Why he isn’t transformed just like you. That makes Derek a dangerous vector, Reaper. Or worse… a prototype for the Alpha.” The word hung heavy in the air. Elias closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, whatever shock he’d felt was locked down, buried under years of training. “So what are my orders?” he asked. Another pause. Longer this time. “You and Tex are to return to base immediately,” Command said. “Medical screening. Another round of antivirals. Full debrief. After that— you’ll be on immediate standby.” “Fucking lovely. There went our Christmas, Mom and Trev are going to be furious. Control, what about the Alpha?” Tobias demanded, leaning toward the comm like it might answer him directly. “The Alpha is now designated a global bio-threat,” Command replied. “Reaper?” “Yes.” “If it reaches out again… we’ll need to activate Omega protocols.” The channel went dead. Elias lowered his hand slowly. The house seemed to exhale around them, as if relieved the conversation was over. Tobias looked at him. Really looked at him. “They’re saying this is bigger than Helixion, aren’t they?” “Yes.” “And that thing—” Tobias swallowed. “It knows you.” Elias glanced once more at the dark television screen, imagining the Alpha’s grin, the casual wave. “It always did, remember?” he said, tapping his head in annoyance. He replaced his respirator and turned toward the door. “Come on,” Elias added. “We’re done here. Leave the rest to the clean up team.” They both removed their suits and tossed them into the biohazard bin, listening as it locked electronically. Behind them, the frat house remained quiet and empty—quarantined, condemned, and marked. Reaching into his pocket, Elias pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up, exhaling in annoyance. Tex looked over at him and sighed, muttering something about how Trevor would be pissed if he caught him smoking again. Elias sighed, leaving a trail of smoke behind him, his mind fixated on one thing. He knew, without a doubt, somewhere beyond the cordon, the Alpha was already planning its next gift. — Derek kept his head down as he walked, the leather collar of his jacket turned up against the cold. Sunglasses hid his eyes from the bright glow of the snow, and anyone passing him would’ve clocked him as just another student cutting through the neighborhood—nothing remarkable, nothing worth remembering. The phone pressed warm against his ear. “Hey Ty. Tell the Alpha they found it,” he said casually, voice light. “Wrapped it up real neat. Whole place is crawling with suits now.” A pause. Then a low, pleased hum from the other end. “Yeah, Blackwell is moving in now,” Derek continued, slowing as he reached the end of the block. A government SUV idled at the corner, its lights dark, engine murmuring. “They’re packing up the scene as we speak. Quarantine tape, stern faces, lots of very serious words.” He smiled. Behind the lenses, his eyes were pitch black. Another pause. Derek nodded along, even though Ty couldn’t see it. “Mm-hm. Told you they would. Always so predictable. Anyways, tell our Master that I’m off to the next recruit.” He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing in the winter air, listening to the distant sounds of radios and engines and people who thought they were still in control. Derek pulled a cigar from his coat, bit the tip, and lit it. He drew deep, savoring the burn in his lungs, the familiar calm settling over him. Next year, he thought, amused. Next year will be even more fun. He adjusted his coat as he walked toward the waiting car, posture relaxed, unhurried. His cock was hard and digging into his hip as he walked. With a brief grope, he adjusted his now massive uncut cock and balls and kept walking, sucking harder on the cigar and enjoying the feeling of the nicotine flowing through his toxic veins. The phone buzzed in his pocket again. Derek pulled it out and glanced down at the screen as he exhaled a thick stream of smoke, opening the PigLoadr app on his phone. Cumlvr99: You close? I need your load in me so bad, dude. Been taking loads all night. He smiled as a picture of the guy’s ass loaded on the screen, gaping and dripping with white cum. He typed back without breaking stride. Daddysboi25: On my way now. Hope your ready for me to change your fucking life. He opened the car door, checking himself out in reflection, adjusting the black leather coat and aviator glasses, adjusting his wavy black hair and touching the newly-placed septum ring in his nose. Pulling out the cigar for a brief moment, he let out a large glob of spit into the snow, smiling at the ever so slightly grey tinge to it. “Fuck, I look so much hotter now,” he said, grinning at his reflection. Satisfied, Derek stepped inside, smoke curling after him as the door shut, smoke filling the cabin. “Time to go claim another victim.” The engine revved as he pulled away from the curb. And somewhere, deep beneath the city’s noise and lights, something ancient and satisfied watched the road stretch open ahead. —------------------------------------- That concludes this year’s Christmas Special. We hope you enjoyed this one-off event, as it was a lot of fun writing it. With that, Merry Christmas from the Master Pathogen team. We hope you all have a great holiday and look forward to continuing the main story in the new year! - leatherpunk16 and kspozcum

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potential candidate must carefully read and understand my profile here. In order to not run afoul of restrictions in posting further detail in a public forum, a potential candidate is urged to read my post which is in the forum "Gift Giving Poz Top Breeders" (though I do not perceive this as "gift giving" or "breeding". I believe such phraseology cheapens what is arguably one of the most touchpoint experiences in one's journey through their human experience. I am NOT monitoring this thread. Respond in an email/private message in order to advance a conversation. [think before following links] https://breeding.zone/topic/91270-have-you-a-very-serious-interest-in-being-sero-converted/

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Just saw on X he passed away as confirmed by Chi Chi LaRue