leatherpunk16

I'm afraid it won't be revealed. This is a spinoff of our joint creation, "The Master Pathogen", also featured here on BZ. Your guess is closer to the latter than the former, but not exactly it. The poz monsters from that story have descended on a frat house. There is no deeper meaning or intent for narrative continuity as it's not exactly canon to the primary story. Just a fun spin-off.

Chapter 1 -- Gifting Season Noah drifted toward consciousness as though rising through layers of thick, warm water. His mind floated somewhere above his body, disconnected and sluggish, and for several moments he hovered between dreaming and waking without understanding which was which. A heavy heat curled low in his stomach, radiating outward through his limbs, turning every inch of his skin oversensitive and flushed. His head felt thick, dense, as if cotton had been stuffed behind his eyes and pressed gently against the inside of his skull. The sensation was unfamiliar but not entirely alien—like a drug high he couldn’t quite place, only magnified and distorted. He groaned softly and shifted without thinking, only to jolt sharply at the sudden rush of cold air sweeping across his bare skin. Every part of him. The realization slammed into him a heartbeat later, and he blinked rapidly, confusion giving way to alarm as he became acutely aware that nothing covered him. No clothing. No blanket. Not even the cheap fleece throw he’d passed out under during movie nights. His breath caught as he forced himself fully awake, heart stumbling into a faster rhythm. He was naked. Completely, utterly, inarguably naked in a place that was definitely not the Phi Alpha Gamma living room. The world around him resolved slowly into a dim, blurry chamber. Rough stone walls pressed in close, dark and wet-looking, glistening with beads of moisture that caught the weak red light overhead. The air was thick, humid, and unpleasantly warm—heavy enough that each breath felt slightly too dense, carrying a faint chemical tang that prickled the back of his tongue. Wispy strands of mist clung to the floor, rippling faintly with each uneven inhale Noah forced into his lungs. Red Christmas bulbs—old ones, big plastic ones like his grandmother used—hung in drooping arcs above him, strung together with sagging wires that looked decades old. Some flickered erratically, casting twitching shadows across the walls, while others pulsed faintly as though struggling to stay lit. The effect made the room seem alive, as if breathing alongside him. His shoulders ached with a dull, grinding pressure. When he tried to lower his arms, something bit sharply into the skin of his wrists. A startled breath escaped him, and he craned his neck upward to see thick strands of old Christmas lights wound tightly around his wrists, knotted over and over until the wires looked fused together. The same cords circled his ankles, holding his legs just far enough apart that there was no dignity left to cling to. The lights hummed faintly, warm against his skin in a way that felt almost biological—like there was a pulse moving through them. Panic surged through him, sharp and bright, but tangled immediately with a hot spark of anger. Hazing. It had to be hazing. Some stupid, charter-violating, archaic fraternity bullshit. He’d heard stories about other chapters doing things like this—blindfolding pledges, leaving them tied up in cold places, stripping them as some kind of psychological “test.” But Phi Alpha Gamma was not supposed to be one of those chapters. Derek had looked him in the eye when Noah rushed. Had promised this frat was different. “We don’t do that stuff here,” Derek had said. “I wouldn’t bring you in if we did. Trust me.” Trust me. The words curled bitterly in Noah’s thoughts. He yanked against the lights, teeth gritted, but the cords didn’t give at all. Instead, the wires dug deeper, almost tightening in response, and the sudden exertion sent the heat in his body spiraling upward. His head throbbed, vision blurring at the edges. His breath came too fast, too shallow, like his lungs couldn’t quite catch onto the rhythm his body needed. The warmth under his skin intensified—rolling waves that felt horribly familiar. A dizzy, tingly buzz bloomed behind his eyes, drifting down the back of his throat and into his chest. “Oh god,” he whispered, a tremor running through him. “This is like… like that night Porkchop dared me to try poppers…” Except stronger. Much stronger. Instead of a head rush, this sank deep into his bloodstream, blooming through every nerve until he felt unsteady, exposed, and frighteningly sensitive. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t a prank. Something had been on whatever hit him downstairs—something chemical and potent, something that made his body feel hot and loose and pliant in ways he didn’t want to think about. He forced his eyes shut, trying to steady his breath, attempting to pull himself back from the rising swell of panic. “Okay,” he muttered, voice trembling despite his effort to sound firm. “Just calm down. It’s a prank. It’s a fucked-up prank, but that’s all it is. You get out of this, and you’re reporting every single one of these idiots to the dean. Derek can explain himself later.” The words didn’t reassure him as much as he hoped. His breathing stayed shallow, and the heat coiling through him didn’t ease. His skin prickled with a hypersensitive awareness he didn’t want, tightening each breath into something sharp and uncomfortable. He opened his eyes again—and then froze. A sound drifted through the chamber. Not the click of Christmas bulbs. Not the distant groan of old pipes. Something else. Something alive. A long, slow, deliberate inhale. Then another. And another—each one slightly out of sync, as if more than one massive chest was expanding in the dark. Noah’s heart tripped over itself and stumbled into a faster, unsteady rhythm. He stared into the shadows beyond the weak circle of red light, vision blurring slightly despite his desperate attempt to focus. This wasn’t Derek. This wasn’t a prank. This wasn’t human. “Derek?” he called again, though it came out barely above a breath. “Guys…? Okay, seriously… if this is some kind of joke—cut it out.” The chamber answered him with silence. And then, faintly, with a wet, clicking sound—like teeth shifting slowly against each other. A shiver raced up Noah’s spine. Whatever else was down here with him… had been watching him the entire time. And it was breathing. Waiting. Patient. The realization landed in his chest like a stone: This was not hazing. This was something else entirely. The breathing in the dark grew louder, deeper, no longer blending into the room’s ambient hum. Each inhale rolled through the chamber like it belonged to something large—several somethings. Noah’s pulse quickened as he strained to hear anything human, any hint that this was still a prank. But there were no voices, no nervous laughter, no Derek whispering “gotcha.” Only the slow, synchronized breathing of creatures too massive to hide. The first silhouette peeled itself from the darkness and stepped into the red glow of the sagging Christmas lights. Noah’s breath caught in his throat. The creature stood nearly seven feet tall, its body carved in smooth, unnatural muscle, obsidian skin gleaming like polished stone. Long, curved horns swept back from its skull, ridged and imposing, as if grown for battle. Its broad face was wrong in every way—sharp angles, too-long jaw, rows of glistening pointed teeth. Where eyes should have been, there were only dark, unreadable hollows. A second creature followed. Then a third. Soon seven of them stood before him in a wide semicircle, each subtly different in build or horn shape, but all sharing the same monstrous design. Their movements were controlled and deliberate, heavy enough that Noah felt faint vibrations through the floor. They didn’t attack. They simply observed him, massive chests rising and falling in quiet, predatory unison. Noah’s skin prickled as their attention fixed on him. Suspended by the warm, humming Christmas lights, he felt horribly exposed under their collective stare. Every tremor in his muscles, every unsteady breath—nothing escaped their notice. Then the entire group shifted, turning slightly toward the creature standing closest to Noah. This one moved differently. Its posture was disciplined, its breathing steady and measured. Its horns were sharper, curving back like twin blades. Even in stillness, it radiated a sense of practiced readiness, the controlled tension of something trained. A low ripple of growls passed through the others, almost like a chant, and a word rose from that rumble: “…Zero…” The name echoed against the stone, low and resonant. Noah felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know what Zero meant, but the way the others said it carried weight—deference, expectation, something close to ceremony. Zero tilted its horned head slightly, acknowledging the name, and the others quieted as though waiting for its next move. Noah swallowed hard, dread crawling into his bloodstream. The monster closest to him—the one standing just inside the edge of the red light, so close he could see the faint sheen of drool on its teeth—was Zero. Zero was not a title or a concept. Zero was the creature chosen for him. And Zero was stepping closer. Zero stepped closer with a slow, predatory deliberation that made the air in the chamber feel suddenly thinner. The other six tightened their semicircle behind him, drawing in around Noah with quiet, expectant growls. Their obsidian bodies shifted with a muted sheen, horns catching the red light in sharp, jagged silhouettes. Noah felt surrounded not just physically, but psychologically—boxed in, studied, assessed like prey that had already been chosen. The warm buzz in his veins spiked as Zero neared. Noah tried to pull back instinctively, but the Christmas lights only tightened around his wrists, holding him suspended and helpless. A new dizziness washed over him, deeper than before, clouding the edges of his awareness. His skin flushed in a sudden wave of heat, as if the creature’s proximity alone amplified whatever chemical was still working through his system. Zero leaned in until Noah could feel its breath against his cheek—humid, thick, and faintly acrid. Its chest expanded with a slow inhale, drawing in the scent of him as if cataloging every detail. Noah turned his face away with a strangled breath, heart hammering. “Please…” he whispered, though he wasn’t even sure what he intended to plead for. Zero responded with a soft rumble that vibrated through Noah’s ribcage. It wasn’t soothing, nor mocking—just a low acknowledgment, almost as though it approved of his fear. The monster’s clawed hand lifted, moving toward Noah with surprising steadiness, fingers flexing once before settling near his shoulder. The heat inside Noah pulsed harder. His head swam. His breath hitched. Zero touched him. He felt as Zero’s clawed fingers gently traced along his sides, his body twitching from fear and a strange sense of alien excitement. It slowly dipped down, fondling his cock and balls, giving it his hard cock a few firm tugs, Zero letting out an appreciative growl and smile as Noah let out a shocked gasp and moan, despite how terrified he was. The creature pulled its hand away for a brief moment and spit on its hand, the same foul liquid coating the fingers like slime. Satisfied, he then dipped his hand lower, before tracing around his hip leaving a trail and pressing several fingers into his asshole, the sharp nails almost expertly, the slimy saliva easily allowing them to penetrate his entrance. The reaction was instantaneous. Noah’s body jerked, his breath catching in a shocked, involuntary gasp. The chamber spun in slow, nauseating circles, red lights blurring into hazy smears above him. His stomach dipped, thighs trembling as a wave of dizzying warmth pushed down his spine. “No—stop—” he managed, voice thin and breathless. Zero didn’t stop. It merely adjusted, claws tracing along Noah’s chest with a terrifying precision, as if following a pattern only it knew. The chemical haze surged again, turning Noah’s limbs soft and uncooperative, weakening his voice into a hoarse whisper. The pack shifted closer in response. Not touching—yet—but watching, their unified stillness adding weight to the moment. Noah sensed a hierarchy at play, an order to their movements. Zero was performing a role, and the others were witnessing it. Another pulse of heat flashed through Noah’s bloodstream. His vision trembled at the edges. He had the horrible sensation that something inside him was beginning to yield—not by choice, but by chemical force. Zero growled again, deeper this time, and leaned in, pressing its forehead briefly against Noah’s, its horns framing his vision as his clawed fingers pushed deeper. The gesture wasn’t affectionate. It was claiming. And Noah felt the shift in the group— a collective anticipation— as Zero prepared to continue. Strangely, he felt numb to the fingers after a few moments, that same heat now spreading from his ass as the fingers were removed, now mostly dry. Without warning, he felt his legs get pulled upward, his weight evenly spread between the cord around his wrists and the monster’s grip around his now spread legs, straddling him as he felt the monster’s cock press tightly against his hole. He tried to struggle, before realizing what he was doing at the last second as the tight ring of muscle relaxed suddenly, causing him to suddenly sink hard and fast, penetrating him in one slick movement. He cried out, feeling the massive cock seating itself deep in his guts. The red lights flickered overhead, dimming momentarily as though reacting to the energy building in the room. Noah sagged harder into the restraints, his body wilting under Zero’s control, his mind fraying at the edges of panic and chemically amplified sensation. The pack’s breathing synchronized again—slow, steady, ritualistic. Zero’s claws tightened on Noah’s hips. The true ritual was only beginning. The effect on Noah’s body was immediate and overwhelming. A shudder passed through him, involuntary and intense, as though the heat inside him had been suddenly stoked into a sharper flame. His ribs strained with each breath, and his arms pulled weakly against the Christmas lights, the warm cords tightening in response as if adjusting to keep him perfectly in place. A low rumble spread through the semicircle of monsters. Not loud, but deep enough that Noah felt it reverberate in his bones. The six creatures behind Zero shifted closer, closing the gap between them until their obsidian bodies formed a near-solid wall of muscle, horns, and slow-moving breath. Their presence constricted the space, tightening the air around Noah until he felt boxed in from every angle. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady himself, but the chemical pulse running through his veins made everything feel thick and swimmy. When a fresh wave of warmth rippled through his abdomen, his head fell forward with a faint sound he didn’t recognize as his own. Zero’s claws rose to Noah’s waist, anchoring him again. Its breath rasped across Noah’s shoulder—hot, humid, wrong—and then it resumed its slow, ritualistic exploration. He felt as Zero slowly began to pull out, a small, hopeful part of his brain thinking it was over, that they were somehow stopping, when suddenly, Zero slammed hard and fast deep inside of him again, making him whimper. This continued a few more times, each time less painful and somehow more enjoyable. Soon, Zero was fucking him hard and fast, Noah no longer feeling pain but a strange pleasant pressure and burn deep inside him when Zero finally pulled him hard and fast down onto him in one final slam, shooting volley after volley of cum deep in his guts. Noah’s knees jerked reflexively, his whole body curling inward for a moment before the restraints forced him still again. His vision blurred around the edges, red lights melting together in a dizzy haze. The monsters’ collective breathing grew louder, more synchronized, like they were inhaling in perfect rhythm to Noah’s faltering breaths. Something shifted deeper in the chamber. Not movement. Not footsteps. Pressure. A heavy weight pressed down from somewhere unseen, a thickening of the air that made Noah’s lungs tighten. It felt like the moment before a storm breaks—static and anticipation and the sense of something vast drawing near. The other six monsters reacted immediately. Their growls softened, posture lowering, horns angling toward the far side of the room. Even Zero paused—not releasing Noah, but holding perfectly still, claws poised, as if awaiting judgment. Noah lifted his head in confusion, chest heaving. “What… what is that…?” he whispered, voice raw. None of the monsters answered. They didn’t need to. The air trembled again, heavier this time. Zero’s claws tightened on Noah in a silent assertion of possession, as if reminding him—and the others—that he was already claimed. A faint glow shifted in the darkness beyond the pack. Something massive was approaching. Zero leaned in close, breath rolling over Noah’s ear, and released a soft, resonant growl that felt almost like a warning: “The Alpha is coming.” The chamber thickened around Noah as the presence in the darkness approached—so potent and tangible it felt like pressure building inside his skull. The air turned heavy, humid, and strangely electric, making the red Christmas lights overhead flicker with an almost nervous pulse. Even the stone beneath him seemed to hum faintly, as if bracing for whatever was about to emerge. The pack sensed it instantly. The six monsters behind Zero lowered their heads, horns angling downward in a unified gesture of submission. Their bodies shifted apart just enough to form a clear path through their ranks, creating a corridor of shadows and anticipation. Zero remained closest to Noah, but even he moved slightly aside, still touching Noah yet no longer centered. His posture tightened in a way that felt almost formal—respectful, deferential. Noah felt the pressure before he saw the Alpha. A deep, resonant vibration slid into his awareness, not entirely sound, not entirely sensation. The hair on his arms lifted; his heart stumbled. The chemical warmth in his blood quivered, reacting instinctively to the new power entering the room. Noah tried to steady his breath, but the air itself seemed too dense, too hot, making each inhale a struggle. Then the Alpha stepped into view. He dwarfed the others—not just in height, though he was easily a foot taller than Zero, but in presence. His horns were longer, sweeping back in grand curves that made his silhouette impossibly striking. His pitch-black skin reflected the red lights in deeper, richer tones, muscles shifting beneath the surface like living stone. The air around him swirled as he moved, as though even the atmosphere recoiled and obeyed in the same breath. When his face fully entered the red glow, Noah felt something crack open inside him. The Alpha had eyes. Or something resembling them—deep, molten slashes of faint crimson light resting where the other monsters had hollows. They flickered subtly, almost like embers beneath soot, and when the Alpha looked directly at him, Noah’s whole body seized in a wave of overwhelming heat. Then Noah heard him. Not with his ears. Not with sound. Inside. Noah Vance. The name echoed through his mind as if spoken against the walls of his skull. Noah inhaled sharply, chest constricting, pulse leaping into a panicked rhythm. He shook his head in a desperate attempt to clear the voice. “Stop—please—get out of my head—” Zero released a low, warning growl beside him, sensing Noah’s rising panic. The Alpha silenced it with a single glance, and the room seemed to shudder at the shift in authority. The voice returned, deeper this time, sliding through Noah’s thoughts with a deliberate, predatory ease. You came down here alone. Curious. Unwatched. Unclaimed. “No,” Noah rasped, though the word barely held shape. “I—I didn’t know—please, I didn’t—” The Alpha stepped closer. Heat radiated from him in powerful waves, washing over Noah’s bare skin until he trembled under the weight of it. The flickering red lights cast shadows across the Alpha’s horns, drawing sharp lines down his face, accentuating the broad sweep of his jaw and the long, serrated teeth glistening beneath it. Another voice—this time spoken aloud, deep enough to rattle Noah’s chest—rolled out of the Alpha’s throat. “You should not have opened the way.” Noah blinked, dizzy and terrified. “What do you mean? I didn’t open anything—” The Alpha leaned closer, lowering his head until his horns framed Noah’s face. His breath washed over Noah in thick, consuming waves. Your brothers left a door unlocked. You walked straight into the dark. And we followed the cold you left behind. Noah’s pulse stumbled. The basement door— that old maintenance entry they’d all forgotten existed. Had it really been open? And had something been waiting for that? He tried to speak again, but the Alpha’s clawed hand rose, touching Noah’s jaw with shocking gentleness that contrasted violently with the situation. The chemical heat in Noah’s blood surged under the contact, almost as if responding to him. Zero stepped back fully now, lowering his head and yielding his place. The Alpha’s grip tightened. Noah felt the ritual shift. The first part was over. The second—far worse—was beginning. Slowly, each of the other monsters lined up as if orchestrated, and the next monster grabbed his legs, pulling him down by his hips forcefully, the cum from his brethren slickening the way. Each monster took its time, fucking him hard, fast and with earnest, flooding him deeply before moving out of the way for the next. After a while, Noah’s mind couldn’t take it anymore and mentally started begging for them to go harder, faster, to make it hurt. The heat inside Noah swelled into a blazing pulse that made his knees jerk and his breath fracture. His head dropped forward, the strength in his neck failing as waves of dizzy warmth passed through him. The Alpha’s voice curled through his mind again, softer now but far more intimate. You will not leave here unchanged. You were chosen. You will be remade. Noah shook uncontrollably, words failing him completely. The Alpha positioned him with terrifying ease. Suddenly, he felt as two of the other monsters, one he was sure was his maker, Zero, held him up by the legs, allowing the Alpha easier access to his hole, Zero’s long, almost serpentine tongue, licking and tasting the head of his leaking cock, before taking it deeply in his mouth. He could feel the dangerous brush of too sharp teeth threatening to slice into the delicate skin of his cock as Zero seemed to feast on the precum dripping out of him. The other monsters growled in a soft, unified rhythm, their horns angled forward, their bodies swaying slightly as though caught in a trance or feeding on Noah’s reactions. The Alpha’s final whisper pressed into Noah’s mind like a brand: This is the moment you break. And become ours. Noah choked on a breath and felt consciousness begin to slip. The ritual was not done. But his mind was already unraveling. The Alpha’s presence consumed everything—air, heat, sound, even thought. Noah hung suspended in the Christmas lights like an offering, his body limp, trembling, reacting to the chemical haze still burning steadily through his veins. Each breath felt fragile, caught between a sob and a gasp, the effort overwhelming even before the Alpha moved again. Zero and the other six had fallen silent, forming a curved wall around the two of them. Their horned silhouettes flickered with each pulse of the dim red bulbs, making them appear almost carved from shifting shadow. They were waiting—expectant, reverent, as though the ritual depended on the Alpha alone. The Alpha adjusted his grip on Noah’s hips, claws resting just firmly enough to remind him how easily he could be torn apart. Noah whimpered, a thin breath scraping from his throat despite his efforts to stay quiet. His head lolled forward, chin brushing his chest, sweat dripping in slow trails down his ribs. The Alpha’s voice touched his mind again—no louder than a murmur, but heavy with certainty. Do not resist the change. Let it take you. Noah tried to shake his head, a weak, pitiful motion. “I—I don’t want—please—” His plea dissolved into a broken sound as the Alpha positioned him. Suddenly, he felt as the Alpha began to penetrate his already abused and cum flooded hole. The already battered flesh strained to accommodate the massive demonic looking cock. The reaction inside Noah was instant and catastrophic. His body arched against the restraints, breath ripped from him in a raw, involuntary gasp. The chemical heat exploded through his abdomen, spreading into his limbs like molten electricity. His legs shook violently, barely held steady by the arms binding his ankles. As they shook, the string of Christmas lights clacked against each other in a weird, macabre percussive symphony. Each pulse inside him felt heavier, deeper, striking through him again and again until he no longer knew if he was crying out or if the sound was only in his head. The Alpha growled low in his ear, voice rumbling through both the air and Noah’s bones. Good. You are yielding. Let me in fully, Noah Vance. Noah’s mouth opened, a fractured sound spilling out, half protest, half overwhelmed surrender. His vision blurred, red lights stretching into smeared halos. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think past the waves of heat crashing through him. He looked down and could see the end of the Alpha’s dick causing his flat stomach to bulge out, his insides feeling like they were being rearranged. His consciousness wavered. Reality thinned around the edges. Everything became sensation—heat, pressure, trembling muscle, the Alpha’s claws keeping him steady, the deep vibration of monstrous voices rising and falling around him. The pack’s growls shifted into a rhythmic cadence, almost a chant, synchronized with Noah’s ragged breaths. The Alpha’s mind pressed harder into his. You will remember this in your blood. You will wake differently. Mine. It is time to release your seed for your brother and maker Zero. Show him your thanks for this gift. The final surge hit Noah like a blow, tearing through the remnants of his resistance. He convulsed, heat piercing him from within, flooding outward until he felt like his body was no longer a separate thing from the Alpha’s hold. Then— he felt the second the Alpha began to fuck him. Slamming hard and fast, making it feel as if his insides were being ripped apart, his asshole being split in two. It went on mercilessly for several minutes until he finally felt it. The Alpha’s cock was like a firehose inside his guts, flooding him with an obscene amount of tainted cum, finally driving him over the edge as Zero greedily sucked every drop out of his throbbing dick. Somehow, part of him knew that Zero and the rest would enjoy the taste of his pure untainted cum, that it would feed and nourish them for the night ahead. His mind warped and he felt as more and more cum shot out of him, fueled by the thoughts of wanting to empty himself of his useless seed to make room for more, to feel as his cum became tainted and corrupted, his veins bulging and darkening and then his skin turning black. His body would become stronger, taller, leaner and more muscular. His cock would grow longer and thicker, his balls larger and heavier, no longer just for sperm but as the perfect place for the virus to incubate. To feel his own set of horns sprout fully out of his head and his teeth sharpen. To feed and be fed from his new brothers to make his transformation take even faster. Of joining the hunt as they sought out new uncorrupted men to infect and turn. The heat spiked once more, blinding and total. Noah cried out—a raw, hoarse, broken noise—and then his entire body sagged, all strength leaving him at once. His consciousness flickered, dipped, fought to stay afloat… and finally lost. The Alpha held him suspended for another moment, claws steady and secure. Noah’s head fell against the creature’s chest, eyes half-open but unseeing. A lazy smile spread across his face. A satisfied growl rolled through the chamber, answered by the low rumbling of the pack. The ritual was complete. Noah’s last dim sensation was the Alpha lowering him slightly, pulling its still bloated cock out of his ass and letting a small trickle of black cum out of his destroyed ass. The Christmas lights adjusting their hold as though alive, cradling him into a suspended, slack-limbed sleep. Then darkness folded him under. — The movie upstairs had finished long ago, a new movie picked from the fishbowl in its place. Empty beer cans clattered as someone shifted on the couch. The storm battered the windows with a steady, rising howl. Evan checked his phone for the tenth time, frowning. “Noah’s been down there for almost two hours,” he muttered. Zach shrugged, but his expression was tight. “He probably fell asleep behind the furnace.” Bran didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the basement door—ominous, still, the faintest cold draft curling out from underneath it. Finally he exhaled. “Enough. Someone’s going down there.” The others fell silent. And beneath them, far below the floorboards, the chamber’s red lights pulsed once—bright, then dimming again. As if settling. As if briefly satisfied.

I actually DID meet one here in Seattle a few years back for fisting. He came to me, we made a video, and that was that. I don't know if he's still on BZ or even in Seattle.

Kspozcum wrote this scene. Compliment HIM. But we appreciate your interest and how much you are enjoying this. It's been a blast to put together.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS: After today's posting, we'll be taking a break from our usual serial for the Christmas season. This will give us time to catch up on a backlog, and also give you time to catch up with previous chapters. It's a long read, and we're only halfway through, so this little break is necessary for everyone. Thanks for sticking with us this far. There's still more story to tell, so click the "follow topic" button at the bottom of the page (or wherever it is), and you'll get the update when Act 3 begins.

Intermission #2: We Come Out At Night Matt and Darin’s apartment. 19:53 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. Matt had never felt so trapped in a familiar place. The apartment was small — too small, suddenly — and every inch of it seemed to echo with something he couldn’t remember. The crooked skeleton hand still hung on the curtain rod, its bent fingers pointing straight at him like it was calling out his guilt. He sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the beer he hadn’t touched. His large hands looked foreign to him — strong, calloused, steady — but right now they were shaking. Tall, broad-shouldered, gym-built Matt Sutton never shook. He was the guy people asked to move furniture, open jars, deter creeps. Except last night. Last night he wasn’t sure who he’d been. The bathroom door opened with a soft creak. Darin stepped out, toweling his sun-kissed blonde hair, the lean cut of his arms and shoulders glistening from the shower. He was smaller than Matt but carved, compact, like a gymnast made out of sharp edges and smirking confidence. When he saw Matt still sitting there, he grinned like he’d found a Christmas present he forgot he’d wrapped. “Oh,” Darin said, voice bright with mock delight. “Still here. Love that for me.” Matt dragged a hand over his brown hair, trying to slow his breathing. “Darin, not today.” “Today is the only day.” Darin padded barefoot into the kitchen, popping open a can of sparkling water. “You look like you’re about to cry into that beer, and I’m dying to help.” Matt glared. “Just tell me what happened last night.” Darin raised his eyebrows, taking a slow sip. “Mm. Straight to the begging. You didn’t even warm me up this time.” “Darin.” Darin set the can down, sauntering closer. The overhead kitchen light hit his hair just right, turning it gold. “You know,” he said, tilting his head, “if you want the full recap, you should start by acknowledging how unbelievably adorable you are right now.” Matt clenched his fists. “I’m serious.” “Oh, I know you are.” Darin crouched in front of him, elbows on his knees, eye level. “That’s half the fun.” Matt swallowed hard. Darin smiled like a wolf discovering a weak spot. “You want to know what you did, big guy?” “Please,” Matt whispered. “Mmm. Magic word.” Darin’s voice dropped. “Let me see if I remember… You, drunk off your very pretty ass, came into my room. And you — tall, muscular, alpha-boy Matt — started climbing on top of me like you were starving.” Matt’s breath stuttered. “That’s not— I wouldn’t—” “Oh, sweetheart.” Darin patted his thigh. “You did. The big brown-haired heartthrob became very, very soft for me.” Matt’s stomach twisted. “Darin, just—did we sleep together?” “Maybe,” Darin said lightly. “Maybe not.” “Darin—!” “Why ruin the mystery?” Darin stood, stretching lazily. “You’re so much sexier when you’re confused.” Matt felt a pulse of anger, shame, and raw fear shoot through him. “You’re enjoying this.” “Of course I am.” Darin leaned against the wall, casual and smug. “I never would’ve expected the alpha boy to be so… complacent. So needy. God, you clung to me.” Matt’s face burned. “Stop it.” “Begging for me to touch you. Whispering my name. You should’ve heard yourself.” Matt pressed both hands into his eyes. He couldn’t tell what was real and what Darin was weaponizing. “Did I cheat on Amy?” he asked, voice cracking. “Just tell me that.” “You want the truth?” Darin asked softly. “Yes.” “Too bad I’m not gonna tell you, lover boy.” Matt’s head snapped up. “Why?” “Because,” Darin said with a shrug, “I’m not your diary. You don’t get closure from me. You get questions.” Matt’s chest felt crushed. “I can’t tell her.” “Oh, I know you won’t.” Darin grinned. “She’d burst into tears while you stood there stammering, and where’s the entertainment in that?” Matt stared at him, horrified. “You’re fucking evil.” “Only recreationally.” Darin pushed off the wall and wandered behind the couch, leaning over the back so his face hovered inches above Matt’s shoulder. “You know what else is interesting?” he whispered. “You’ve got a little tattoo on your ass.” Matt went rigid. “How—” “You do,” Darin sang. “And last night? I definitely saw it. Cute little thing. Very kissable placement.” Matt’s heart slammed painfully against his ribs. “You sure did like sucking on things, too,” Darin added casually. Matt’s eyes flew wide. “What—?! Did I—did you—did we—” “I’ll let you torture yourself figuring that out.” Darin smirked. “You’re so good at hating yourself. It’s kind of hot.” Matt’s voice broke. “Please don’t do this.” “Sweetie, it’s already done.” Matt groaned, burying his face in his hands. Darin ruffled his hair. “Oh — and about tonight?” “Tonight?” Matt echoed, dazed. “We’re going to a gay nightclub,” Darin reminded him. “Amy said so. Agreed that she was in the mood for some eye candy.” Matt’s stomach lurched. “And you,” Darin said, tapping his broad shoulder, “should maybe limit your drinking.” “W-why?” Matt croaked. “Mmm, because drunk Matt gets curious.” Darin’s grin turned wicked. “Would hate for you to wander into a backroom and end up grinding on a go-go boy while Amy’s in the bathroom washing her hands.” Matt felt like he might vomit. “Stop.” “Or worse,” Darin continued gleefully, “end up on your knees behind the curtain. You know those boys don’t wear much. Big boy like you might get hungry.” “Darin—” “And by the way,” Darin added with a shrug, “Amy handles her liquor way better than you. She’d be stone sober walking in on you moaning ‘this isn’t who I am’ while a pirate in glitter booty shorts rearranges your sexuality.” “Darin, PLEASE....” “Oh, the way you say please,” Darin sighed happily. “Exactly like last night.” Footsteps climbed the stairs. Darin straightened, expression turning breezy and innocent. “Showtime.” The lock clicked. Amy walked in, cheeks flushed, curls bouncing, her blonde ponytail slightly crooked. “Hi, babes! Why does this room feel like someone died?” Matt forced a smile. His throat was dry. “Just—long day.” Darin stretched. “He’s been thinking. Dangerous habit.” Amy blinked but let it go. She kissed Matt’s cheek, warm and trusting. “Come get into your Batman costume! I wanna see my big strong guy. I already got my Catwoman outfit hanging up!” Matt’s stomach sank. Amy disappeared down the hall. The second her door shut, Matt slumped back, shaking. Darin perched on the armchair again, smiling like a cat who’d knocked over all the glasses in the kitchen. “You’re a mess,” he said. “And I love it.” Matt looked up, throat tight. “You’re not going to tell her. Right?” “Oh, absolutely not,” Darin said. “This is far too fun to end.” Matt closed his eyes in shame. Darin leaned forward, voice dropping again, all velvet and threat. “Tonight,” he said softly, “you get to wonder which parts of last night were real… and which parts you just wanted to be real.” Matt’s breath caught painfully. Darin winked. “Happy Halloween, alpha boy,” he murmured. “Let’s see what happens when the music gets loud and you get tipsy.” —-------- Exterior of InfraRED nightclub. 21:04 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. The line outside InfraRED twisted down the block under pulsing red lights, the bass from inside vibrating through the pavement. Matt stood behind Amy and her girlfriends, towering over most of the crowd in his skin-tight Batman suit. His brown hair kept falling into his eyes; he pushed it back again, fingers trembling. Amy was wearing her skintight cat suit and carrying a whip. And her friends were glittering, laughing sprites under the club lights. Darin stood with them, mesh shirt shimmering over his lean, defined body, looking completely at home, with a glittery pair of pixie wings. Matt didn’t. “Hey, alpha boy,” Darin murmured, stepping close enough for Matt to smell his citrusy cologne. “Remember—no drinking tonight. One drop of vodka and you’ll be humping furniture again.” Matt flushed. “Stop.” “Can’t,” Darin chirped. “It’s my calling.” Amy turned around, blonde ponytail bouncing. “Babe! You don’t want your rum and Coke?” Matt forced a smile. “Nah. Just… not feeling it. You guys have fun. I’ll be the designated driver tonight.” “Responsible king!” she declared. Darin snorted under his breath. Matt’s cheeks burned. “Darin. Please.” “Oh, I love when you say please.” Darin leaned in. “Just like last—” “Shut up.” Darin laughed and turned away, but Matt could feel his eyes still on him. The line shuffled forward. A group of drag queens swept past like a cloud of glittering royalty. Matt couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest. Every thump of bass felt like a warning. Amy nudged him and pointed toward the alley. “Whoa. Look at that guy.” Matt turned. A massive man stepped out of the darkness beside the club — short, muscular, half-naked, his skin painted pitch-black from his jaw down his torso, slick and glossy like oil. Even his eyes gleamed like polished obsidian. He walked slowly, deliberately, scanning the line like he was choosing a target. “What… is he supposed to be?” Brooke asked. “A demon?” Jenna offered. Darin squinted, then snapped his fingers. “Oh! He’s dressed like Venom. Right? The paint, the muscles, the ‘I might eat you’ vibe? Very method acting.” Matt didn’t laugh. The man tilted his head and smiled — wide, unnatural, teeth gleaming like something sharp hiding behind human skin. Matt felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “That’s… not a costume,” he said quietly. Darin scoffed. “Relax, Matt. It’s Halloween. Big dude in body paint? Calm down. You’re Batman, aren’t you? Brooding is on brand.” The man took a step closer. Darin grinned, playful. “Actually, he’s hot in a ‘please ruin my life’ sort of way. Wanna ask him if the paint rubs off—” “Darin, stop.” Matt’s voice was firm, low. “Please.” Darin blinked. “…okay, that one didn’t sound like foreplay. But I would let that man destroy me.” The black-painted man let out a sound — a low, vibrating growl that rolled through the alley like something alive. Matt’s pulse spiked. “We need to move. Now.” “Dude,” Darin said, frowning for the first time, “it’s just a guy doing a Venom bit—” The man moved. Too fast. Before Matt could register the motion, something wet and clear arced through the air and splattered across his face. A glob of clear slime — hot, tingling, burning. Every muscle in Matt’s body went soft and overheated at once. “What the hell—?!” Matt staggered, grabbing for the brick wall. Amy screamed. “MATT?!” The Venom-painted man lunged. He grabbed Matt’s wrist, fingers like steel clamps, and yanked him toward the alley. “HEY! LET HIM GO!” Darin shouted, grabbing at the man’s arm. The man turned and backhanded him without hesitation. Darin flew sideways, slamming into a dumpster with a sickening metallic thud. He collapsed, dazed, pain twisting across his face. “DARIN!” Amy shrieked. “CALL 911!” Brooke screamed. “NOW!” Matt tried to fight, but his limbs felt hot and heavy, his strength dissolving under the burning slime. The man dragged him deeper into the alley, ripping at the thin Batman costume. “No—stop—let go—” Matt gasped, but his words came out slurred, his head swimming. The man shoved him against the wall. Then he bit him. Hard. Teeth sank into Matt’s shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin, sending a lightning-bolt of agony down his back. Matt screamed. Amy screamed louder. People in line scattered, shouting for help, pounding on the club doors. Darin, groaning, staggered to his knees. “Let… him… go…” The man didn’t. Didn’t even look at him. He tore at the suit like it offended him, dragging Matt deeper, deeper into the shadows. Amy’s voice cracked with terror. “MATT! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP HIM!” Security was running. People were calling 911. Sirens in the distance. But Matt was going numb, his vision swimming as the heat from the slime spread through his bloodstream, fogging his thoughts, twisting something inside him. The man’s teeth sank deeper. Matt’s knees buckled. Darkness rushed in.

I often wear my jocks at the gym, mostly because they don't ride up on me during legs day. And it's entertaining to make the old straight men uncomfortable by walking around the locker room in just the jock. LOL But at a bathhouse, it's also about comfort. Going naked feels like I'm trying too hard. The towel isn't my thing, and frequently comes undone. So what are my options? Jockstrap. Shows the goods - a bulging pouch, and an available hole for those rare times a man actually has something to put in there. Can't say I'm successful with this method. For an attractive guy who has been in porno flicks, guys aren't interested in sex with me except for the kind that no one else wants to fuck, either. And I always end up breeding someone to get something out of the visit. I don't enjoy paying $40 just to do laps around the place for three hours when I could be at home, sleeping. My attire, or lack of, doesn't get me laid.

Greetings! This one is not terribly exciting or action-packed, but a very necessary chapter to progress the story. ========== Chapter 19: Veil of Uncertainty Around town. 1713 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. Elias had spent most of the day in a haze. Since leaving Dr. Grant’s house, there was no order or direction to his doings. Just about anything to take his mind off the past twenty-four hours: an extraction mission that went sideways, injuries, cheating on his husband, a fuckton of weird behaviors, a devastating medical diagnosis, and now the whole thing with Dr. Grant – all of it was just too much for one man in such a short space. Now all he could do was lie low and wait for Tex to give him any kind of news from the quarantine camp before he could act further. Elias did whatever he could invent to fill the day: he bought lunch at his favorite sandwich shop, but he could barely taste the pastrami on rye. He went to the park and sat on a park bench, just staring at the water, trying to calm himself. He didn’t dare return to the gym. The last thing he wanted was a reminder of his infidelity right in his face. A gentle autumn rain came down, which only added to his gloomy mood, but it provided him something else to do. His eyes never adjusted to the sun’s rays, but he found a little relief when the thunderstorm passed through. After the rain passed, he took the vehicle to an automated car wash. Nothing seemed to make the day pass any faster. As the clouds rolled off, and the sun reemerged for a beautiful sunset on the western horizon, Elias decided to return home. As he drove, his burner phone chimed, indicating a message had been received. Elias started to pick it up, but remembering the dangers of texting and driving, he forced himself to wait until he was home to read it. He parked the car in its usual spot, and climbed out. As he approached the apartment building, a familiar figure he didn’t expect to see again came into view. “Hey, there you are! I’ve been waiting all day for you to get home.” Elias recognized the figure as his trick from the gym earlier that morning. “Oh… um… hi,” Elias said stiffly. “You’ve… been waiting for me? You don’t look so good.” Todd’s color looked slightly off: pale, discolored, a shade somewhere between light grey and puce. His hair was flat and scattered all over as if he had been swimming just minutes ago, and his clothes dripped from his body from an extended period of wear, and sweating in them all day. Todd’s facial expression was one of desperation and simultaneous relief that his patience had paid off. “Yeah! I had to find out where you live, and ask you to fuck me again,” Todd said excitedly. “I had such a good time, and you didn’t call me all day, and I want you to use me again. That was so crazy hot - we fucked, and then you just left me there -” “I’m really sorry, but... This is kinda creepy,” Elias interrupted loudly. “You can’t just show up like this. How did you even find out where I live?” “Gym database,” Todd answered, admitting guiltily. “I know the guy who does the day shift, and just asked him.” Elias hesitated. He didn’t need to get caught cheating on Trevor, especially with a life-changing diagnosis, and Todd was Exhibit A for the divorce that would most certainly happen if he didn’t get rid of him fast. “You just asked him… I’m really not cool with that,” Elias said quietly. “Our hooking up was just a one-time thing. It was fun, but... I received some … bad news this morning that I’m still trying to process, and you can’t be here. You need to leave.” Todd looked immeasurably hurt. “You … you didn’t have a good time with me?” Elias bit his lower lip. “I did, but it… this can’t happen again.” He held up his left hand to show the wedding ring. “I’m married, and we can’t get caught together.” “That didn’t matter this morning!” Todd argued back. “I… haven’t been myself lately,” Elias admitted. “There’s a … major change going on in my life right now, and you can’t be part of it. Get out of here.” Todd’s mouth dropped open slightly as he tried to think of a way to salvage this. “But… we’re connected now, Eli. And I’ve been so horny ever since. Please, I need another load.” Elias had to admit that he was also feeling a little worked up, and he felt a weird connection to Todd. Almost… brotherly. I’m positive. He needs to know about it. The intruding voice, having been silent most of the day, suddenly reappeared in his head. No. Don’t do that. Let him be surprised. The spread will be more effective that way, and he’ll know it came from you. Let him find another trick. Elias pinched his forehead with his hand, a severe headache threatening to break out as he tried to shake awake the voice in his mind. He pushed the thought aside, and stood his ground. “I said no. And… you need to know something.” Todd’s inner defenses suddenly went up. “What? You’ve got kids, too, or something?” Todd had heard all that before: men stepped out on their wives and family for a quick fling before casting aside the ones who gave them what they needed to keep lying to themselves. Before Elias could continue, Todd pointed a finger at him. “You won’t get rid of me that easily. You’re a part of me, now, and I want to be with you.” Todd clearly wasn’t taking the cue, so Elias thought he could let him down gently. He came in close with Todd, and brushed his cheek with one hand. “Look, I’m trying to be nice here. I’m sure you’re a great guy,” Elias said in a soft voice that was anything but sincere. “But I really need you to stop this.” Elias folded his arms over his chest defensively, not willing to look at the clearly unwell man in front of him. “Should have known you’d be just like all those other manwhores. Once you drop a load, you just go off and back to your perfect domesticated life. Save it. I’m not going away that easy.” Todd said with venom in his voice, sweat pouring off his brow. Elias finally sighed, realizing this was going to need a different approach. “I guess so. I already told you, I’m not interested. Take the hint and leave already, man.” Elias firmly placed his hand on Todd’s almost feverish feeling chest and pushed him firmly aside before tapping his keys on the reader next to the door. “Take the hint, or I’ll call the cops and let them deal with it.” Todd stood in place, completely stunned, watching Elias as he went inside. When he was in the doorway, Elias turned back to look at Todd one more time. “Don’t come back.” With that, he closed the door firmly, and marched upstairs, chiding himself all the way for the act that attracted a stalker. Elias unlocked the apartment door, let himself inside, and shut the door, making sure to put on every lock that was available to him. Elias went to the window, and looked down. Todd was nowhere to be seen. Elias silently hoped that he wouldn’t see the young man again, but realized, in his haste to get rid of the trick, he forgot to disclose his status. If I told him, he probably would have made sure Trevor found out. And Todd’s probably infected now, too. I couldn’t even tell him with how clingy he was getting. Dammit, Eli, what have you done? The light from the window quickly became too hard on his eyes. Distressed, he sat on the couch, and remembered his phone. Taking it out and watching the video clip Tex sent him, his jaw slowly fell as the horrifying revelation burned itself into his memory. “Oh… Oh my God… Zero’s alive, and they’ve tortured him.” Elias sat in stunned disbelief for the second time that day. He began typing furiously, the keys of the phone making a terrible cacophony of clicks. “Get him out of there. Keep an eye on Dr. Grant. I think he knows more than he’s saying. Any update on what we’re dealing with? Call me when you can. I have my own news, and I’d rather not text about it.” Elias hit the send button, set the phone down, and loudly sighed. He heard a door open from down the hall, and Trevor quickly appeared in the front room. “Hey, babe,” Trevor said gently. “I’ve been worried. You were gone all day.” Elias was somewhat startled by Trevor’s sudden emergence from the bedroom. “Um… yeah. I just… drove around, trying to process the news.” Elias didn’t need to tell him what news. Trevor tried to skirt around it. “How was your visit with Clark? Did he tell you anything?” “Not really. His house is kinda wrecked and messy, and he was very standoffish with me. Didn’t buy my cover story at all. He sends his regards to you, by the way.” Elias gave Trevor a knowing stare, which Trevor understood instantly. “I don’t know how he figured me out so fast. But he knows something. All he would say is ‘ask Jack’. And that twerp was so incoherent like a child last night, so I don’t think it was worth the – oh! Krell’s men came and took Dr. Grant away right after I left!” Trevor sat down with concern. “Please tell me you weren’t there when they came in.” “No, I got out first. He kicked me out of his house with a broom, of all things.” Trevor snickered. “It’s not funny.” Then Elias started to laugh, possibly his first smile all day. “Yeah, actually, it kind of is. That was so over the top. Like something out of a bad play.” “Heard from Toby?” Elias didn’t want to share details that might be classified with Trevor, but he could at least answer the question. “Yeah, his alibi worked, and he’s doing tests now. That’s all I know.” Trevor placed a tender hand on Elias’s knee. “I’m glad you’re okay. And I’d love to hear the rest of this, but I picked up the on-call shift from a coworker, so I gotta jet. I’ll keep my phone close in the call room.” Trevor leaned toward him, and kissed his cheek tenderly. “Will you be okay tonight?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need to hear from Toby again about what’s up at the quarantine camp before I can make any further progress on this.” Elias heard the voice again. Make him late for work. Breed him now! You know what you can do. Elias seized his head again in both hands and shut his eyes tightly. “Stop it!” he shouted with grinding teeth. Trevor looked at him with alarm. “Stop… what? You thinking those funny thoughts again?” Elias released his head, head now pounding as he sighed loudly and reopened his eyes. “Y… Yep.” “What are they saying?” Trevor enquired. Elias wasn’t sure he should tell him anything. “Just… noise and fury, signifying nothing.” “Quoting Shakespeare now, are we?” Trevor chuckled. “Come on, I didn’t ask you about this at the clinic, but I want to know. And you are the worst liar with me. So tell me now, Elias.” Elias hesitated again, and then blurted it out. “That voice is telling me to have sex with you, and to breed you hard.” A small, incredulous smile broke out on Trevor’s face, but concern lay behind his eyes. “Is that so…? I appreciate your needs, darling, but I think that would be unwise. I’ll be late for work, and… um…” Trevor struggled to find the right words. “Yeah, I know. I’m infected with something, and you don’t want to get it. We don’t even fully know what it is yet.” Elias’s heart sank, and he wondered if their marriage was already beginning to be over. Trevor didn’t say anything for a minute. “Just try to take it easy tonight,” he finally said. “Keep your fluids up, and don’t go out unless you have to.” He kissed Elias more deeply this time, and when their lips parted, he softly said, “I love you. I promise we’ll figure this out.” Trevor gave him a tight hug, and went out without another word. Elias felt a noticeable shift in the air. Things would never be the same between them. —---- “Eli, have you got time to talk?” Tex spoke into the phone. “Yeah, Trev’s at the hospital. Picked up an on-call. What’s up?” Tex didn’t really know where to begin. “Hoo-boy, there’s a lot going on. I’ve met Krell. Total hardass. I can see why Gravestone doesn’t like him.” “It’s not surprising,” Elias said, unfazed. “I’ve been looking at the virus, and running my tests. Dr. Grant is almost useless,” Tex said with obvious irritation. “He’s dragging his feet, and isn’t completely honest about our findings. I suggested a different test, and he said ‘We didn’t work with that bug here.’ But earlier he claimed no knowledge of the kinds of tests and experiments they ran at Helixion!” Elias pondered this. “That’s not surprising. He’s definitely hiding something. When I visited him, he wouldn’t share any information, and kept saying to ‘ask Jack’. Then he kicked me out of the house. Didn’t buy a word of my cover for an instant.” Tex continued, “Here’s a real whopper: I heard him and Jack arguing earlier. Sounds like Jack is the one behind this whole mess. Jack’s in a containment cell, just like the others. Oh, did you watch the vid I sent you?” Elias remembered, and shuddered. “Yeah. They got Zero?” There was a pause before Tex continued in a whisper. “I distinctly heard him say, ‘He injected me. He did this.’ He didn’t mean Jack - he meant Krell.” Elias felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Injected him with what?” Tex exhaled loudly through his nose, causing the phone’s audio to create a little static noise. “Are you sitting down? After all the blood tests and stuff, I’ve determined that this is a new strain of HIV, mixed with something especially nasty. And I think Krell shot up Zero with I-don’t-know how many doses of it.” Elias’s mind raced back to Trevor’s office that morning. P24 HIV PROTEIN: REACTIVE. His stomach clenched. “What happened next?” Elias dared to ask. “He … oh fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this because it sounds so ludicrous… A little while later, I overheard from another guy here on site that he… Zero… fuck… he physically changed into one of the smilers we saw last night.” Elias dropped the phone in disbelief as all the puzzle pieces finally came together. It descended on him like a ton of bricks. That’s gotta be how I got it. The fucker that scratched me. And… oh jesus… He picked up the phone just in time to hear Tex say, “Hey, are you still there, cowboy?” “Yeah… yeah, I’m here. Just… wow. You’re absolutely sure?” he managed to squeak out. “Positively. No pun intended,” Tex said cautiously while trying to lighten the mood. “And that’s not all. After his conversion - which happened pretty damn fast, we’re talking within a fucking hour - Zero got super buff, his skin tone shifted color, his eyes went dark, and he and a recaptured creature reportedly had sex with a security guard, and now he’s one of them, too!” “What in the hell... So it spreads through sexual contact, and develops rapidly.” “You betcha. It’s a goddamn biological weapon. This violates so many laws and codes of ethics, and it’s actually military sanctioned. Our side must be desperate if they need to resort to these measures. Oh, there’s something else. Remember that weird substance we found on the door last night?” “I do.” “Get this,” Tex continued carefully. “It’s spit, just as we thought. And it comes from the smilers. It’s a sedative, and they use it to relax and restrain their victims. I tested a sample from the recaptured creature, and they’re a match. Small variations, but yeah, it’s the exact same molecular structure.” “Jesus, how do you defend against something like that?” Elias silently blessed the good luck that enabled them to learn all this, but this was no lab accident. Someone planned it this way. “That’s all my news,” Tex said blandly, as if he just finished reading his book report. “The smilers are all in containment right now, and I’m going to go check in on them shortly.” “NO! Toby, don’t. Don’t go anywhere near them! You don’t want this,” Elias nearly screamed. “They’ll get you, too.” There was a pause, and then Tex finally spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone. “Ooookay, I’ll stay in the lab. I won’t go near them. They’re behind protective glass, though.” “Did that matter last night when that thing scratched me? Or when one of them ripped the door off its hinges? We’ve seen how strong these fuckers are, and barriers aren’t going to do much but give you a head start to run. And there’s… something else you should know.” Elias paused, unsure how to approach what was in his mind before letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I think I’m infected, too.” Now it was Tex’s turn to drop the phone in surprise. He said nothing, so Elias blurted out the whole story. “All that weirdness I was feeling last night after we escaped? And the strange behavior this morning at breakfast? I’m convinced that scratch was more than a flesh wound. There was probably something secreted through the claws, and shit here got weirder after you left. Trevor took me to the clinic and rushed a test through, and it turns out … I’m HIV positive.” Tex was confused. “Holy shit, buddy! Wait… Hold it a minute, you both got tested right before the wedding. How could you have seroconverted?”, he said, his voice rising. “We don’t know. Trevor is just as stunned as I am,” Elias said. “My levels are off the charts. Like, almost no body fat, impossibly high testosterone, scary low cholesterol, and a bunch of other things I didn’t understand, but none of the numbers make any sense.” Tex’s brain started putting it together, and nodded in affirmation. “That was our experience over here, too, Eli. When we looked at the blood sample from the recaptured smiler, it was so unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Like a mix of Marburg and ebola and HIV all rolled into one hot, chaotic mess. I didn’t know what to make of it. But how do you look physically?” “Same, maybe fuller in the muscles, and a bigger dick.” “Okay, I know I asked... But I’m not really sure I needed to know that!” Tex said with a laugh that barely disguised his discomfort. “I don’t look like the others,” Elias continued. “I see myself in the mirror and it’s still me. But the skin is its normal healthy color, and no claws, no blacked out eyes, nothing like we saw last night. And the scratch happened just last night. Didn’t you say it only took an hour?” Tex pondered this, and finally answered, “Perhaps they’re further along in the infection stage? But… even then, you’ve had it for a lot longer. Doesn’t really make much sense.” “Maybe… But I just got it, and I didn’t change because the thing didn’t have sex with me?”, he posited, unsure if this conclusion fit the evidence. Tex considered it, and decided, “It’s a possibility, I guess. It does seem to spread through sexual contact. Zero filled in that one for us. It must have been in the claw that scratched you last night.” He was quiet for a minute, and Elias heard something that sounded like Tex was moving around, so he said nothing while the revelation sunk in. “God damn. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I know it's a lot to take in.” Elias didn’t know what else to say, and eventually gave a short, quiet, “Thanks. I’m okay.” “But… aren’t you both taking that preventive medication? The one with the cheesy ads, right?” “Yes,” Elias said with curiosity. “It’s supposed to prevent HIV infection. Trevor would know more about it, but I could swear him saying once there isn’t a documented breakthrough case except in people who stick to it regularly, and usually happens only through sexual contact. But this is a new kind of exposure, and something altogether new... so… What are you thinking?” Tex didn’t answer as he processed, but his mental gears were definitely turning. “I have an idea, and I’m going to try something. What do you think about administering a dose of emtricitabine and tenofovir to an infected blood sample? What do you think would happen?” “Tex, I’m a soldier, not a scientist,” Elias deadpanned. “The person you want to ask that is on his way to work. I can’t even begin to guess.” Then Tex resumed, “I wonder if maybe you’re a carrier. Holding the disease, but not actually feeling the full effects of it yourself?” “I guess that's plausible. What else?” “Based on what I’ve seen, and what you’ve just told me, I don’t believe Jack is the culprit after all,” Tex said quickly. “He’s not a scientist, either, just the CEO’s privileged idiot son. Emphasis on idiot. The way he carried on last night, and what I’ve seen here in the holding rooms, there’s no way he could manufacture something like this to cause so much … disorder. It just doesn’t make sense that Jack could be behind it.” “That's what I'm thinking,” Elias said with rapidity. “But who else would it be?” “Good question.” Then another pause. “I have to ask, but it's not really my business, and I probably don’t really want to know.” Tex’s voice took on a serious and dark tone. “Since last night, did you have sex with Trevor? Is he in danger, too?” Elias hesitated again. “I wanted to, TRIED to after you left, but… no. And the really messed up thing… it’s almost like someone… someone keeps telling me to infect him. I don't know where the voice is coming from. But it lives in my head, and I'm tired of fighting it. But we both know what I’ve got now, and we’re not allowing it to happen.” “Well, for both your sakes, you better not. We have no idea what could happen with this out in the wild,” Tex paused, then he continued. “I'll keep an eye on Jack, but I can't do anything for Zero. He’s toast for the time being. Maybe we can figure out what’s holding back whatever this is in you and develop a vaccine or treatment. In the meantime, you should watch your back. If Krell finds out your involvement and you’re out free, we're all screwed. I wouldn’t put it past the guy to strap you down and use you as a guinea pig.”

You boulder! 🪨 😆

Happy Halloween from the infected Commander Gravestone Yes, that's me in costume from last night. I have the claws! I have the eyes! My skin isn't skin-coloured!

Chapter 17: I Don’t Know Why the Caged Bird Screams Quarantine Camp. Building 4, Hot Labs. 13:18 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED LOCATION. The air in the lab was sterile as the hum whine of filtration units in the mobile hot lab droned on, only broken up by the buzzing of fluorescent lights. Tex adjusted the focus of the electron microscope, bleary-eyed after looking at yet another sample before finally he let out a triumphant yell. On the screen, floating around in rapid speed was what he was looking for: a random, almost alien-looking virus particle, darting around with alarming speed, infecting each cell. “Gotcha, you slimy little bug,” he said, grinning, watching in almost awe at how fast it was moving and replicating. Behind him, several test tubes continued to spin in the centrifuge with a low whir. Getting up and stretching, he wished he wasn’t still in the safety suit, groaning as his spine let out several pops. The computer beside him let out a loud beep and he rushed over, reading the various red flags on the rapid sequencer, grabbing his laptop and beginning to type. Sample: Patient 1-B, Matrix: Plasma (EDTA) Interpretation: - Lentivirus backbone (HIV-1–like). Inserted polymerase gene and regulatory motifs resembling Marburg virus. No known reference match; highly unusual recombinant event. Phenotypic characteristics unknown; pathogenic potential unclear. Suggested Action: - Forward to BSL-4 reference laboratory? Restrict sample handling; trigger biohazard alert? Exhausted and ready for a break, he trudged over to the antechamber, quickly sterilizing and doffing his equipment, intent on getting some food in him. After several minutes, he was done and walked over to his makeshift workspace, looking through several of the printouts. As Tex further recorded his findings, an approaching commotion was heard. Turning around to see what it was, Tex silently stood as he watched a sick-looking man in a white labcoat and paper face mask being guided into the room, his hands gloved in sterile white latex. “Guided” wasn’t quite the word for it - it was more of an escorting by two armed military grunts as they walked behind him. “Take your damn guns off me,” the sick man spat. “I gave you my word I won’t attempt to escape.” “For the last time, Doctor Grant, it’s Krell’s orders,” one of the grunts said. “This is where you’ll be working. I suggest you make yourself comfortable.” “They fired my ass, I don’t need to be here. I don't know anything about this project!” The same grunt raised his weapon at the doctor. “Now. We won’t tell you again.” Dr. Grant just stared at them, silently resentful. “All right already,” he said quietly. “Just… please lower your guns, and leave a sick grieving man in peace.” The grunt lowered his firearm, and left with the other one, wordlessly. So this is Doctor Grant… Tex thought. I wonder what Eli was able to get out of him. Tex cheerfully closed the distance between himself and Dr. Grant, and extended his hand in greeting. “Howdy! So this is the famous Doctor Clark Grant I’ve been hearing so much about. Pleased to meet you, I’m Lieutenant Tobias Vahn,” he said, laying on the Texan accent in hopes of disarming Dr. Grant. “I’m a virologist and —” Dr. Grant gave a helpless stare at Tex’s outstretched hand, and finally raised his eyes to meet Tex’s. “Let me save you some trouble - I’m not here to make friends. Helixion fired me, and I don’t know anything about this project, and I’m not interested in meeting new people. I just want to go home and be sick.” Tex stood blinking in astonishment, and let his hand fall back to his side. “Well. It seems to me you're stuck here regardless of your personal feelings, and I could use another set of hands. At least let me show you what we’ve been working on and get you up to speed. Your insight as a doctor will be valuable to me.” Tex returned to his workspace, and with a light gesture, he motioned for Dr. Grant to follow. Dr. Grant gave him a flat look, but said nothing. “I went ahead and ran a fell cell culture and electron microscopy in the hot lab, as you can see here in my research. Personally, I have no idea what this could be. At first you can see that it vaguely resembles a lentivirus, but… when I ran it through the NGS, it… well, it doesn’t really make sense. It’s popping up all sorts of things, like SIVcpz, HIV-1 group M, but here’s the weird part. See the RNA polymerase? It’s more filovirus-like.” “This is quite the nasty bug,” Tex concluded. “All sorts of shit that I have never seen before in any labs or simulations. I thought you guys only ran a BSL-3 here tops?” “Yes, but we’re in the works for getting BSL-4 certification on one of our new labs,” Dr. Grant answered with disinterest, his eyes not really focused on one particular thing. “This is likely an emerging disease, not from here. It could completely change the world if it got out of control.” “Just a boatload of things that shouldn’t ordinarily be in here, but there they are.” Tex peered again down at the screen to marvel at the sample one more time. After a few seconds, he said without looking up, “These buggers are admirably adapted to hijacking the human immune system. I mean look at this thing. It’s definitely spherical with an enveloped dense core, but it also has these filamentous parts here like Marburg or Ebola… I truly don’t know what to make of it. So I want to try something out of left field here. Let’s run an Elisa and Western Blot to be sure it's not a false positive for HIV in the sequencer. See if we have any antibodies we can look into.” Dr. Grant hesitated before answering. “That would be a waste of time. We didn’t work with HIV in this project.” Tex processed the declaration, and then turned to look into Dr. Grant’s face. “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about what was going on here.” Dr. Grant froze up, realizing he just got caught in a lie. He fumbled to respond and said, “I… I just don’t think that’s what this is. That’s so basic, and viruses just don’t work that way.” “I think you’re wrong,” Tex answered firmly. “This bug has been spread almost entirely by sexual contact with a patient, and it changes the body so rapidly and drastically. I think that classifies it as a sexually transmitted infection.” “Sexually … transmitted…” Dr. Grant let the words trail off feebly. How the fuck does he know that? “So how can you know what not to look for, Dr. Grant?” Tex removed his latex gloves with a loud snap. “Read my notes so far, and do a little observation for yourself, doctor. You’ll see I’m right. I’m going to go find something to eat. I’m starved. Can’t wage war on an empty stomach!” Dr. Grant could only scowl as he watched Tex pitch his gloves into a receptacle bin and exit the room. —---------- Meanwhile, in a containment room “Are all the seals in place?” “Yes, General.” “Good. Proceed.” While all four patients were sedated, General Krell had them removed from their individual containments and placed into the same space together. Jack and Beau had been placed on one side while Zero and the smiler were on the other. All were completely undressed and without the support of any machines or wires or tubes, and could freely move about the large chamber. But they were not free to leave - Krell had insisted that they all remain behind glass, and for the safety of all the medical staff and security, all the personnel would keep at a distance for observation behind their own protective glass. He had previously considered watching from the safety of a secure office on a monitor, but morbid curiosity made him want to see the action in person. Jack was the first to awaken. He sat up slowly, his head throbbing from too much medication and the exhaustion of the past week as well as being severely malnourished. His vision was unfocused, and he wiped his face several times before he realized he was still in a glass chamber. Only this wasn’t his own isolated space - he was now sharing one with three other bodies. His heart jumped in terror when he recognized the sleeping form of a smiler just on the other side of the chamber, along with a short muscular man who was also just coming out of his sedation. His face was familiar, but Jack couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. In the fluorescent light of the chamber, the features were likely to be distorted somewhat. It wasn’t the lighting that made Zero look so alien - his conversion had completed, and he now resembled the other smilers. Turning to his opposite side, Jack observed the guard from last night lying next to him; he was sweating profusely. Beau was in mid-transformation, but appeared to be stuck at one stage of the development as if his body was fighting what was happening to him. Jack recoiled in horror, and scurried backwards until he found a wall. A voice suddenly boomed in the chamber. “You’re finally awake,” Krell’s voice intoned. The sound caused the others to awaken and take in their new surroundings. “NO!” Jack screamed. “NO! You can’t make me one of them! Don’t do this to me! I can’t stand it! Please don’t slime me anymore!” He covered his face with his hands. — Zero sat up groggily. “Wwwwhere ammmm Iiiii…?” As his vision came into focus, he could see other bodies moving near him, and the intense vocaliziation of Jack grated on his ears. “Shut up already!” Zero yelled, his voice almost a growl as he covered his ears and shut his eyes. Then he realized he had been stripped down to nothing, and his whole body looked and felt different. The skin had turned to the sickly shade of grey, the muscles were greatly defined, and Zero could only imagine what his face looked like. He examined his right arm, and found the puncture spot where Krell had injected him hours earlier. I’ve been made one of them, he realized. Krell did this. That unimaginable bastard. The smiler next to him awoke, and began moving its limbs. It appeared to be disoriented, as if it had suffered a great injury recently, and quickly checked itself for signs of damage to the physical body. It was then he turned to his left, and saw Zero - he recognized a new brother and grinned evilly. Then it turned its attention to Jack. There. One who isn’t afflicted. Wait, that’s…! The smiler turned back to Zero, who was looking to him for guidance. “No. Do not go to him. That one is off limits.” Zero cocked his head to the side, wondering greatly what the smiler meant, and why he should keep distance from Jack. Meanwhile, Jack was keeping his back as close to the wall as possible, and curled himself up into a ball as much as he could, quaking with fear and dreadful anticipation. Beau remained almost paralyzed on the hard floor of the chamber. The harsh lights hurt his eyes, and he felt like he could retch any second. Breathing had become labored, and the most he could do was watch as Zero and the smiler came ever closer to him in a hazy vision. The unnamed smiler came to one side of Beau, and Zero on the other, both on their knees as they moved toward him. The smiler took one look at Beau, and recognized him as the man he tried to convert last night. But the transformation hadn’t taken hold completely - Beau’s system was fighting it, and it looked like it was quite a fight. His body was covered from head to toe in sweat, and his eyes were dilated. “Please don’t kill me,” Beau managed to squeak out. “Want to live. See… my family.” Zero looked into Beau’s face, and then to his companion with alarm. “You won’t die,” the smiler whispered to him. “It hurts at first, but once you give in, it will all be worth it.” The unnamed smiler, being the more experienced in the chamber, took charge. “You, newbie. Spit in his face.” “Huh?” Zero didn’t understand the instruction. “We have to sedate him so he doesn’t fight us.” Zero didn’t fully understand, but hocked back, and spat an impressive loogie on Beau’s face. It landed on his right cheek, and wasn’t quite what he anticipated. Instinctively, Zero raised his hand, and gently smeared it around Beau’s face. Beau resisted, but in his weakened state, the resistance was over before it began. Already his face was flushed, and the toxins from Zero’s spit began their processes. “Hit him again.” Zero raised his hand again, misunderstanding the order, and made to smack Beau in the face with his fist, but the smiler stopped his hand. “No. More spit. You didn’t use enough.” Zero lowered his hand slowly. This time, Zero positioned his head over Beau, and drooled a thin sheet of saliva over him, completely coating his head. “Very good. Now… where were we?” Krell’s voice rang again in the chamber. “No! One of you on each man!” Zero and the smiler both looked at Jack, who was still curled up in the fetal position, and trying to protect himself. Then Zero returned to look at the smiler companion, puzzled. “Why can’t we touch him?” “Boss’s orders,” the smiler answered. “Besides, he smells off. And we have unfinished business with this one here.” Slowly the two began to strip Beau as naked as they were, Zero’s heart pounding with dread and excitement. His now much larger cock plumped and the veins took on a more blacking appearance as the smiler egged him on verbally to start sucking Beau’s quickly hardening cock. The smiler straddled himself atop Beau. In one solid motion, the smiler buried his black-skinned cock deep into the man’s ass, making Beau groan in pain and pleasure, immediately slamming hard and fast into the warm wet hole, his cock leaking brackish black cum into their victim. Zero could taste the cum on his tongue, hungrily sucking the leaking cock at first with dread and then earnest, getting a close up view of the smiler’s cock slamming hard and fast into the man’s ass. Zero could swear he could see as the skin around the man’s lower half continued to take on a grey pallor, spreading fast first to his lower abdomen and to the tips of his fingers as cum began to drip out of the ruined hole. Suddenly, the smiler grunted, the flow of cum being too much for the man’s now completely wrecked hole, thick black laced cum squirting out with each hard slam. Satisfied, the smiler slowly pulled out as several more drops splattered on the floor. “Your turn now,” it said happily, wrapping its clawed hand on Zero’s head and pulling him away, the taste of cum still on his lips. Now excited, Zero slowly positioned himself so his cock pointed at the man’s hole as well, plunging deep in the warm, soaking wet hole and followed suit. The feeling was divine to Zero, each thrust making his entire body shudder with pleasure as his felt his cock slowly dribble cum out as well while he fucked the man’s ass, each thrust making Beau gasp wantonly. After several minutes, Zero could no longer hold back, adding his own tainted cum to the mix with a satisfied groan, watching as Beau finally shot his load across the metal floor, the smiler licking it up like it was a pool of spilled ice cream. “Good. My turn again.” the smiler growled, switching positions with Zero and beginning the process again. — As the infected specimens shared their DNA with Beau, Krell’s impatience was mounting. He slammed his fist into his open palm, frustrated. “Damn it, why won’t they go near him?” He continued to watch Beau get pummeled and pounded by the smiler and Zero with a strange fascination. He knew what he was seeing was wrong and unholy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the action. Krell scowled, and pursed his lips tightly. He also looked back at Jack from time to time, and Jack had hurriedly moved himself to the farthest corner from the debauchery that his chambermates were revelling in. Krell turned to a nearby guard. “Soldier, go in there, and extract Blaine. Leave the others alone.” “Sir? Are you sure that’s wise? I mean… uh… this is pretty fucked up sir…” “Don’t question me. Just do it. You're authorized to use lethal force if necessary to protect yourself, soldier. You’ll be fine with the hazmat suit on.” The guard hesitated, and made every attempt to keep his gaze on Jack. He didn’t want the images of men and monsters copulating to be burned into his memory. Then, he made the snap decision to approach the chamber as quickly as possible. Get in, grab the subject, and get out. Easy peasy. You can do it. Just don’t look over there. A buzzer sounded, and the guard pulled the chamber door open enough to get inside. He rushed instantly to Jack, and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, I’ve got you. We’re gonna take you away from this,” he said in a whisper only Jack could hear. Jack didn’t fight him, but nodded rapidly. The guard held Jack in two hands, and swiftly guided him out of the chamber. Please please please don’t let them see us, the guard silently prayed. As soon as they were through the door, he heard it shut behind him with a loud woosh sound, and the sinful three-way fucking didn’t miss a beat. They never even noticed the extraction. “Take him back to holding,” Krell’s voice said from somewhere. The guard escorted the sobbing, grateful Jack from the room as the unnamed smiler shot a volley of corrupted spunk into Beau’s rectum. Another man in plainclothes approached Krell. “Sir? We’ve found the server inside Building 3.” Krell inhaled slowly. “What did you find out?” “Nothing, sir. It’s been completely destroyed. We can’t get anything off it.” Krell grunted, his frustration mounting. “God fucking dammit. Let’s go to my office. Rios?” A young nearby guard snapped to attention. “General?” “Let the specimens continue their mating. I want a full report within the hour.” —------ Quarantine Camp. Mess Hall. 15:06 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED LOCATION. Tex stuffed the last forkful of the catered chicken/potato casserole into his mouth, and chewed greedily. Army rations had never been as good as this meal, and Tex was sorry to see it end. He let out a satisfying sigh, placed the plastic spork on the tray, and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. Damn, I must have been starving! Breakfast didn’t stick with me one bit. Gulping the last of the water from the paper cup, Tex stood up from his seat, and picked up his tray. After disposing of his refuse, Tex wiped his hands against each other, and proceeded to return to the hot labs. He suddenly remembered the phone in his pocket, and took it out to read Elias’s message from earlier in the day. They took Dr. Grant. Got out before they arrived. They’re coming back now. I’m going back home. Tex let out a silent sigh of relief. Then he started a new message to Elias. Found Zero. He’s alive, but in quarantine. Jack and another guy are in separate isolation. Grant has arrived, and he’s completely ignorant of the whole affair. I don’t like him. You didn’t say he was sick. What did you learn from him? After hitting send, he remembered the video. He started another message, and attached his earlier recording. Given the quality of the phone, it could be a while before it uploads and sends, so we’ll just… Tex thought. He hit send, and replaced it in his labcoat pocket, hoping it would do its thing while he kept working. As he strode back to the hot labs, he heard Dr. Grant yelling at someone, but the voice wasn’t coming from the labs. “I don’t give a damn what you appreciate, Mr. Blaine! You caused his death, treated me like shit, and then you had the gall to steal my research and fired me after you got the recognition for your stupid projects! You’re the lowest, and you have no idea what you are messing with! You’ve seen, firsthand, what you’ve sown.” Tex kept as quiet as possible as he listened to their argument with his ear pressed to the door. “I made a mistake, all right? Please get me out of here!” Jack pleaded. “I swear I’ll be good. I can’t take the monsters anymore. They’re out of control.” “Because you unleashed them. You brought this on yourself.” “They don’t like me very much,” Jack cried. “All they do is spit on me, and chase me around, and fuck each other like a bunch of dirty homo sickos. It has to stop!” “You call us gays that, and expect me to help you? Do you not have a heart! Do you not have a soul!!”” Dr. Grant roared by the end of his speech. “I’ll do anything, I just don’t want to be in that glass room again —” “I don’t care what you want,” Dr. Grant interrupted. “Can you bring him back? Did you approve the trials that could save his life? Nope, didn’t think so! You danced with the devil, and now you’re paying the price. Everything here is your doing. You set all this in motion, and these people here – some of whom are “dirty homos” as you so kindly refer to us – are stuck cleaning it up.” Jack processed this realization, and then began furiously beating on the glass, producing only dull thuds as it held against his blows. “Let me out, you sick faggot bastard! Let me out NOOOOOOWWWWW!” Jack screamed. “Don’t you DARE call me that! You are the one who is a sick fucking bastard, and if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll come in there, and shut it for you. Not even your clueless dad can save you from my wrath, you bigoted piece of shit!” Tex heard a loud hacking cough, presumably from Dr. Grant. Then a pause, and Tex heard nothing more for a minute that seemed like an eternity. A roll of thunder suddenly rumbled out of nowhere. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. Blaine,” Dr. Grant continued quietly, “you may have got all the credit, and a nice bonus, and your super soldiers, but you still don’t get it. I’m not letting you out of a prison of your own design. You don’t deserve to be among decent people.” The voices stopped completely, and Tex could hear footsteps approaching his position, so he bolted in the direction he came from, hoping he wouldn’t be observed in his flight. Dr. Grant emerged from the room alone, and looked down both corridors of the hall to see if anyone was nearby. Seeing no one, he ran one hand over his hair, snorted loudly through his nostrils, and silently moved through the corridor with angry footsteps. —----- Quarantine Camp. Containment Room. 15:20 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. Slow, careful footsteps approached the glass chamber holding Beau, Zero, and the third smiler. Their activities had ceased; all three lay on the floor, panting for air. Zero and Beau had fully converted, and they were just now lying comatose, sprawled out on the floor in the afterglow of wild sex. The lights were low, and all the soldiers and Krell had abandoned the space. A gloved hand went to the numerical keypad, and after the correct sequence had been entered, the device beeped cheerfully. The door made a familiar woosh sound as it opened, and sterilized air escaped. Zero and the other smiler were on their feet and at the door in an instant. “Go rejoin the others. No stops on the way, not even for recruitment. It’s going to rain, so you’ll be safe from the sun’s rays. But move fast, and stick to cover. Kill anyone who gets in your way.” Their liberator stepped away from the door as Zero and the smiler roused Beau from his blissful state. As they made to exit the chamber, the voice came again. “Wait. We have one more thing to do before leaving.” —--- Quarantine Camp. Krell’s office. 16:02 MST. 31-Oct-20XX. REDACTED location. “What do you MEAN “they escaped”?! They were in a secure holding cell!”, Krell screamed at the top of his lungs. “We found blood at the scene, sir.” “Whose is it?” “Tests show it came from Jack Blaine.” “Bring him to me.” “He’s missing, too, General. And his guard.”

Chicago also has Jackhammer, and just a couple doors down is Touche. When the playroom/bar is open in either place, there is a gear check. Leather or fetish wear is required. But sometimes, like during the day, the bar space is open for service and play isn't a thing there.

I can't say I ever experienced any weird side effects from it. No dreams, no excess poop, no nothin'. Maybe to a smiler I smell repulsive and like a hospital, but ... idk 😉

Chapter 15: Awakenings Helixion Genetics, North Hallway, Building 3, Basement Level 5, Maintenance Area. REDACTED LOCATION. 0425 MST. 31-Oct-20XX Gravestone opened his eyes with a start, gasping for air. He had been lying on the floor, and didn’t know how long he had been out. He had been dreaming while under metamorphosis: he was running through a dark forest with the voices of his comrades calling out to him though he never saw their faces or figures. He was being chased by something with sloshy footsteps, and every time he tried to look back, he tripped over a protruding tree root or a fallen branch, or dodged a wild critter at his feet. Then he came to a giant gaping maw, an abyss so black that he couldn’t see its bottom. He knew if he remained in place, the thing chasing him would eventually catch up, but he saw no way across the chasm. On the opposite side, he saw his wife Denise and their son, Mason. They stood still and said nothing, and their faces were a complete blank. Gravestone turned and faced his pursuer, only to find that it was not one being, but all of his teammates. Everyone had been turned into a smiler. He looked up at the canopy of trees, and saw Jack hanging from a denuded branch with one arm, as if he were a monkey. Jack only dangled there, slightly swinging back and forth while creepily singing, “One…two…three…four… five…”, but he would start over at “one” again when the count ended. As the spectres of his team closed in, wordlessly, Jack started the sequence again but slower, and his voice deepened. Gravestone could see that Reaper and Tex hung back, and Zero disappeared from sight. Looking to his right, he saw General Krell standing on his head. “I’ll have you court-martialed!” he thundered. The others came in closer, ever closer in one creepy unison motion, and when they finally lunged for him, Jack reached the next number. “Six!” Gravestone leapt backwards into the abyss, not knowing when he’d hit the ground, but he felt free and relieved as gravity pulled him down to the bottom. The dream ended before he touched it. Gravestone pushed himself up to seated on the stone floor. He instinctively reached for the back of his head where he struck the pipe, expecting to find a gash, but instead, his fingers found nothing but hair and skin. In the dim light of the room, he could already see the changes in himself. The skin was discolored, his nails formed claws, and all his clothes were missing. His muscles were more defined, and his former ‘dad bod’ was more like it was twenty years ago. He remembered being surrounded by his team, and quickly put it together that he had been captured but had no memory after that. Gravestone felt warm and moist, like he had been sweating, or perhaps swimming, and his skin felt alien to him. Most surprisingly, his rectum felt tender. He likened the feeling to when he had diarrhea for a solid - or liquid - three days straight, and was afraid to poop for the next week for the irritation. His vision still blurry, he could make out a small red dot almost directly across from him. It would sometimes remain stationary, then move a little in a downward direction before coming back to center. Its glow occasionally brightened for a second, and then receded. He could smell something sharp - distinct and familiar, like something burning. The smell was sometimes offensive, and sometimes sweet and fragrant. Gravestone wondered what he was looking at until he heard a voice. “Hey, Commander.” He knew it at once, and knew what he was seeing. Stag was smoking a cigarette right across from him. “Or should I say Sleeping Beauty?” “S-Staaaag?” Gravestone asked with gravel in his voice and a slight slur. “I thought for suuuure you’d fucked off and left us.” He hacked up his usual morning phlegm, and spit it out to one side. “Hey, don’t waste that. It’s good stuff, and we need it.” Gravestone wiped his mouth with his hand, wondering what Stag was getting at, and why his spit just now was slimier than ever. “They got you, too, huh?” Stag chuckled in a way that could only be described as cocky. “Nope, walked right into their nest. Well, our nest, now, I guess.” Stag took one more draw off his cigarette before stubbing it out. “They changed us into the beasts we were meant to be. I feel so good, and so ready to breed some more holes. Gotta get to full infection so I can reach my maximum potential.” He chuckled with what could only be pride and smugness. Gravestone took stock of himself, and also Stag. Both men were physically changed almost beyond recognition in this light. Body fat drained away, replaced with hard muscle and bulging black veins beneath them. Eyes blackened, teeth sharpened, dicks bigger. Stag already had horns forming on top of his head, and his commander could see their protrusions. How fitting, Gravestone thought. Stag got his antlers. Horny bastard. He smiled inwardly at the dad joke. Then the gravity of his situation hit him. Stag patiently waited while Gravestone adjusted to his new form, and simply sat across from him. Gravestone looked at Stag with irritation. “Oh, you son of a bitch. I’d smack you one right now if I could completely see straight. If you had just stayed with the team, and done your damn job, soldier, we might be on the other side of this shit. Instead, you had to go and get your dick wet, and now we’re both infected. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” “Fucking proud. It hurt like a bitch at first, but once they started breeding me and the virus took over, it was a damn roller-coaster ride that never ended. I wish you could have been awake when they did it to you.” He laughed sardonically. “That was a great show.” Gravestone looked at him with horror and disgust. He wanted to resist, to smash Stag’s face in for the situation that led to this, and for a dozen other offenses, but instead, just sat there blinking with perplexity and controlled rage. It became a silent, motionless duel between them as they each weighed the same possibilities: can one overpower the other? Will he try to kill me? Will we worsen and die? What can we do about this? How much am I willing to give up? “If I get out of this, Stag, you’re a dead man.” “For what?” Stag asked innocently. “Having a little fun? ‘Deviating from the mission’? I hate to break it to you, Commander, but you’re no longer in charge.” “Lieutenant, you got us turned into monsters!” He said the last word like it was a dirty word. Stag gave him an expression of surprise. “Little ol’ me? Nah, that was the Alpha’s doing. We were just in his way. As for ‘monsters’, ha! Hardly. We’ve been… improved. Upgraded.” The Alpha sauntered into view and stood between them. “Now, now, my pretties, I can’t have you fighting.” He turned to Gravestone, and seeing him at his feet, he hoisted him up with both hands. Gravestone felt repulsed by the touch of this… thing with its slimy hands and razor-sharp claws, but complied anyway. Best to see it face to face. When Gravestone stood to height with the Alpha, he looked into its eyes. A black abyss there. And I see myself in it. The reflection took Gravestone’s breath away as he remembered falling into the abyss in his dream. Meanwhile, Stag remained seated behind the Alpha, whose ass was now in his face. Without hesitation or instruction, he placed both his hands on the Alpha’s hips, and tested out his new tongue by lapping the Alpha’s anus with it. The Alpha softly growled with approval, but did not take his eyes off Gravestone. “I am the Alpha, your new master AND commander,” he said in a husky voice. “You will obey me.” Something in Gravestone made him want to accept it, but his mind and instincts began to fight against this resistance. Internally, he was at war with himself. Then he decided. “Yes. I will obey.” In the corner of his mind, he was rebelling. Play along for now. He has the upper hand and you’re outnumbered. Don’t be stupid, Nathan. The Alpha acknowledged the submission, but didn’t speak about the rebellious thought he read in Gravestone’s mind. He simply narrowed his eyes, and his lips formed a thin, flat line. This one will be tough to break. With that, the Alpha turned back to Stag, and also brought him to his feet. “You’re a ruthless one, and deviant as hell. But continue to smoke in my lair, and you won’t get any more seed from anyone. Understood?” Stag bowed his head to show deference, and said nothing. “Good. Don’t forget our deal, either.” “Hey, do you mind? You guys are killing the vibe!” Gravestone turned and looked toward the source of the voice. Sticks was glaring at him while Pixel was on his knees, sucking his thick boner. Pixel pulled the cock from his mouth, and turned toward the arguing trio. “Really, such serious talk at a time like this…” He then resumed nursing the massive cock, and looked up at Sticks with pleading, lustful eyes. Gravestone looked at Stag with astonishment. “That’s it? We’re all gay now?” Stag smirked. “Gay as a picnic basket.” Gravestone put up both his hands. “I don’t want any part of this. I’m a married man. I don’t have a problem with homosexuality, but this isn’t my thing.” The Alpha turned back to him. “You will be part of this. There is no escaping it. Suck your brother’s dick.” He indicated Stag with a tilt of his head, and his face was all seriousness. “Come on, Nathan, it’ll be fun!” Stag encouraged. “You’ll love it as much as I do!” He bared his newly-formed fangs in a wicked smile. “No,” Gravestone said, moving to a nearby corner. “Resisting won’t undo it, Gravestone,” the Alpha said in a threatening voice. “Oh, yes, I know all your code names. I know about Reaper, and Tex, and Zero too, and they’ll be joining our coterie before long. They can’t resist, and neither can you.” “Fuck you, Alpha. You can go straight to hell,” Gravestone said defiantly. As he moved to his corner, he saw Patch being ravaged by a smiler so deeply infected that its skin was pitch black, and the horns on his head were massive like a ram in mating season. Patch looked like he was in pig heaven, and paid no attention to the quarrelling. Looking to his right, he could make out Lockjaw ramming his monster cock into another smiler. Of all the smilers, only this one was wearing any clothes. Gravestone took it to be a lab coat that had seen better days. He felt a twinge of remorse that his leadership failed all of his team. “I gave you a gift, Gravestone,” the Alpha growled, his impatience rising. “And an order. Look how much fun your friends are having. It’ll feel so good, and you’ll never want to stop.” “Eat shit off my balls and die, fucker,” Gravestone spat with as much venom as he could muster. “I’m not doing it.” Then something happened that Gravestone didn’t notice - he was slowly getting hard. The Alpha, however, detected it at once and grinned slightly. “Hey now, Nathan, that sounds like you have a fetish you want to share with the group,” Stag said mockingly, grabbing his cock and shaking it at Gravestone. “You may say that, but your body says differently,” the Alpha replied as he ignored Stag’s comment, pointing at Gravestone’s swelling member. Gravestone looked down at himself, and saw that he was, in fact, getting aroused. You would dare rise for this shit?, he silently demanded of his stiffening dick. But the size was impressive, and Gravestone struggled to control himself at this new development. “Seems he needs some convincing, boss,” Stag said coercively. The Alpha exhaled quietly through his nostrils. He closed his blackened eyes, and raised both his fists before his face in concentration. After a moment, Gravestone suddenly felt compelled, and wordlessly came back to Stag, and got on his knees. Without thinking, he inhaled Stag’s thick ginger cock, and began to suck like his life depended on it. The Alpha reopened his eyes, and lowered his fists, pleased. “Good. Don’t stop until he cums.” Stag was visibly impressed by the Alpha’s will. So he has powers of mind-control as well, eh? I better watch myself, or he might make me do things that *I* disagree with. I need to find a way to get free, go wreak some havoc. Gravestone had no idea how to suck a dick, and was just slobbering all over. There was no instinct, and the Alpha wasn’t teaching him. The oral sex felt good, but not good enough. Stag let his commander get used to the sensation of sucking dick, and hoped carnal instinct would kick in. The Alpha roamed around the room, satisfied that all the new recruits were swapping their tainted loads, and infecting each other a little more deeply. Stag sensed that the Alpha’s thoughts were now elsewhere, and the tension of the room began to relax. He took hold of Gravestone in one handful of hair, and forced him to swallow him to the shaft. The tight throat gasped in surprise, and easily gave way to the intrusion. Stag slowly pulled out of Gravestone’s throat, and rammed back in, trying to teach him how to do this important task. What have I been missing out on all these years? Gravestone wondered as Stag prepared his throat for more sexual assault. This is…mmph… great! He began to get a hunger for it, and greedily began to get into the spirit of the act. Stag’s mind wandered while Gravestone struggled with his first big cock. We can’t stay here. Someone will come looking for us. And I know just who I want to share this gift with. Stag’s lips formed an evil sneer. Oh, yes, that roided-up freak will get his just desserts for dumping me. His eyes began to dart around the room, looking for an exit of some kind that would take him back to the real world. But Gravestone’s laudable efforts were starting to cause a churning in Stag’s balls, and he would waste his first toxic load if he didn’t act. Stag pulled his dick free from Gravestone’s slimy mouth, and let the man have some air. Gravestone only wiped his mouth with one hand, and looked up at his frenemy. “What? Why’d you stop? I was just getting good at this.” Stag snorted. “No you weren’t. Bend over.” Gravestone stayed on his knees and faced the other way so his ass was exposed to Stag. The next thing he felt was a cool but sticky sensation on his hole. Stag was lubricating him with his spit. The act felt familiar, and he wondered, Is it like this when Denise and I have sex? Is this what she feels? His train of thought was instantly cut short as the Alpha’s voice echoed in Gravestone’s head. Forget her. Forget your god, your job, your home. This is your life now. Take his seed, and be one of us. You can’t go back. Stag plunged his toxic dick into Gravestone’s willing hole, and fucked him mercilessly. Both men groaned for different reasons, and suddenly everything in life made sense to Gravestone. Yes, this is …oh my god… fuck yeah... I want this. The power is incredible. Ohhhhhhh don’t stop… The Alpha stood back, watching with immense pride and satisfaction. He sent a thought to Gravestone. Just wait until you get to breed a hole with this. You will love it. Stag thrust himself in and out, letting Gravestone feel the entire shaft and all the sensations. “I’ll show you how a real man fucks, commander.” Gravestone tensed up slightly at the sound of his military title. “Oh, you don’t like that, eh, commander? You’re my bitch now, and maybe you can go wait in a cushy … office with… the General if … you … can’t … handle that!” Stag’s breath came shorter and shorter in loud rasps as he felt himself near climax. In the corner, Sticks watched Stag’s short, hard thrusts in their commander’s ass, easily following suit as he did the same to Lockjaw. To their right, Pixel was draped over one of the smilers, its obscenely large cock deep inside his ass as another smiler slowly pushed into his already straining hole, the previous loads from other smilers dripping like oil on the ground. In an opposite corner, Patch was fucking the ass of one of the smilers, a large goonish smile plastered on his face as he slammed his much larger dick in the hole, his tainted load leaking into the smiler as another one plowed deep into his guts, making his dick dribble inside as he fucked and was fucked. Stag suddenly let out a deep animalistic growl as he fully shot out a massive load in Gravestone, a pool of thick saliva dripping out of his mouth below as he reveled in the feeling of adding his own toxic brew into his commanding officer's ass. Momentarily spent, one of the smilers grabbed Stag, pulling him out of Gravestone, as it firmly seated itself inside the redheaded man. Throwing its head back, it gave a satisfied growl. “Fuck yeah, give me more…” he moaned, pushing himself back as he felt his cock begin to harden again. The Alpha lounged in the corner as he watched his subjects continue to fuck with reckless abandon, his massive cock dripping an obscene amount of cum, almost tar-like in the low light of the room. Finally shooting his load, Sticks let out his own growl, slowly feeling Lockjaw’s body as one of the smilers gently pulled him away from his lover. A different one took his place, shoving its cock hard and fast into Lockjaw, making him gasp in pain and pleasure. In an effort to console him, Sticks began to make out with him, the black veins in their necks sticking out against their now greyish skin. “Fuck, you look so hot right now, babe,” Sticks said, his voice gravely as his cock still dripped with cum after his brutal assault on the bigger man’s ass. The smiler that had pulled him out of Lockjaw’s ass now began to position him so that they could continue to lock lips, sharing in the pain of having their guts rearranged as the two smilers began to slam hard and fast, letting hormones and the virus fuel them. Getting up, Gravestone cut to the front of the line, giving one of the smilers a wicked grin as he watched the latest one fucking Stag, who was now watching Pixel and Patch be swapped between one of the creatures, pumping a few times in one man, then pulling out and slamming into the other’s ass as each man nursed on a smiler’s cock. Suddenly, Stag turned around with a surprised look of shock on his face as Gravestone slammed as hard as he could in Stag’s ass, his hole previously just being vacated by one of the smilers, a fresh load painting his guts. An evil smirk of satisfaction on the commander’s face as Stag gasped out in pain. His short, hard stabs made the skinnier man moan, as he breathlessly began to beg Gravestone for his load. His long, skillful strokes began to get ragged and less fluid, a sign that he was painfully close. The Alpha grinned, knowing that once the stoic commander shot in the man’s ass, he’d be fully gone, the need to spread the virus taking full hold. Suddenly, an ear-splitting metallic scrape was heard from across the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and looked in the direction of the sound. The Alpha sniffed the air a couple of times, then let out a scream howl. “You! Go see what that was!” he ordered to an underling who wasn’t engaged in mating. The smiler, resentful that he was chosen to step out of the festivities, scowled, but it complied. The others resumed their activities, unconcerned for the interruption. Sticks began to moan as the smiler who was sucking him earlier was now engaged in fucking him senseless. The moans increased in volume, encouraging all the other smilers to increase their pace and fuck a little harder. A scream growl was heard in the distance, and the Alpha raised his head with alarm. Someone is here! Excellent, more fresh meat! He went to see for himself, and left the others to keep up their frenetic orgy. When the Alpha entered the next room, he found cardboard boxes scattered all around. Some were in pieces, and others were completely whole. He found the remains of a wall that someone had built, and what resembled a hole blown through the center of it. Beyond the hole was an opening, a shaft of light, and the form of his scout could be seen charging through it at top speed. They escaped, the Alpha thought. Fuck! Then it dawned on him. And now… so can we! He rushed back to the orgy, and found that some of them had finished their breedings. Gravestone lay face down on the floor, ass in the air, looking comatose but relieved. Stag was cradling his spent cock with one hand, and supporting himself with the other on a wall. Sticks and Lockjaw were both on their backs, gasping for air with their eyes on the ceiling, having just finished shooting their own toxic loads. The Alpha looked at the assemblage of smilers, and exerted his aura to turn their attention to him. When he had it, he finally spoke. “We’re free. Whoever was here just now opened the door for us, and we will make a run for it.” The Alpha turned to Gravestone, and made sure he knew he was speaking to him. “We’re not staying. The rest of your team will try to mount a rescue, and they’ll kill us if they find us. Gather your men, and your possessions. We leave in five.” “Why?” Stag demanded. “We easily outnumber them, and have superior power. They —” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing this was the chance he needed to enact his plans. He lowered his head, and did not meet his stare. “Sorry, Alpha.” “Speak out of turn again, Stag, and you will be,” the Alpha said reprovingly. “You’ll speak when spoken to.” Gravestone, who had just shot his load into Stag and was breathing heavily, couldn’t help but smirk. You’ll never learn, Stag. Seriously, no respect for protocol, even in this situation… “Any of you still breeding may finish, but when you’re done, don’t stay. I know a place where we can hide out from the daylight,” the Alpha continued. “The sun will burn us, and this place is no longer an option. Your presence here, Gravestone, proves it. Be ready to go.” With that, the Alpha and several smilers walked out of the room with him. A few stragglers remained to finish their reinfections. —------- Helixion Genetics, exterior. 0530 MST. REDACTED location. 31-Oct-20XX. Garrett let out a sigh of relief. The medvac team wheeled Beau away on the mobile stretcher, and thankfully he was still alive. They didn’t quite know what to do with him, or how to help him, but an unseen order from someone higher up instructed them to take him to isolation and quarantine. “Whoa, I need a shot of whisky after that!” Garrett exclaimed. He looked to the horizon. The sun will be up any minute. I can finally go home and wash the stink of this night off me. He looked back at Helixion building 3, and surmised that what he saw raping Beau was probably a lab animal. But what animal copulates with humans at will? Garrett figured there had to be more to it. It looked almost human, but… corrupted somehow. He looked up at the stars, which were already fading from view. What kind of lab is this??? What in God’s name were these scientists up to? The air was suddenly quiet, the sort of quiet where the slightest noise would seem incredibly loud. The insects stopped chirping, and any birds still around in this season stopped their sunrise squawkings. Garrett was unnerved by the silence as he returned to his post. Then, without warning, a terrifying scream growl was heard from behind Building 3. Garrett rolled his eyes, the adrenaline kicking back in as he drew his weapon again. “What the hell is it this time?” He barely had time to turn around when he was suddenly overpowered by a swarm of creatures just like the one that had attacked Beau. Each had blackened or sickly grey skin, some bore horns and sizable claws, but all were naked, and all were coming after him. One or two of them were bundling up something, but Garrett hadn’t time to process what he was looking at. “Whoa!” he shouted as the mass of unknown creatures descended on him. A couple of them spit on him as he fell, and their thick mucus missed his face. Another one of the creatures came nose to nose with him, and licked his face intensely. Garrett felt repulsed by the tongue, and then calmed down quite suddenly. He felt himself being hoisted by a few hands, and before he could completely register what was happening, he was being carried horizontally above their heads as they raced across the parking lot toward the trees en masse. The largest and blackest of the creatures was at the head of the pack, clearly leading them to some unknown location. Garrett dropped his weapon as the only evidence that he had been there. “Come, my beautiful creations!” the Alpha transmitted to his followers. “This world will be ours for the taking!” The army of infected creatures swiftly moved across the woods, following bike and jogging paths, never stopping, never hiding, and never speaking, their single-minded purpose driving them to find new shelter before daybreak. The trails were, miraculously, unoccupied, and the motley crew moved through the twilight swiftly and unobserved. As the sunrise began, the Alpha held up a warning hand, and the team stopped in their tracks. He turned to them, saying, “We’re here. This will be our new base of operations.” He gave a grand gesture toward an immense building. Some of them recognized it as the old hospital, almost directly across from the newer and shinier one that had better facilities. “Get inside, quickly!” The scientists and soldiers rushed past him, still carrying a comatose Garrett above their heads. The Alpha looked upward at the building. This is where it began. And this is where it will end.