Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten

by Richard M. Heredia

  Thus, as she aged and her body changed, Katie went from being flirty and foul tongued to experimental and eager. She would try anything and everything new, which of course led her down the road to sex, drugs and unfortunately to grand theft auto.

  (I’m not referring to that god-awful video game franchise of that bygone era either!)

  No, this was an action, through a serious of mind boggling events, landed her on my doorstep and later, my ward, in the summer of 2018. This was before the world collapsed around us and we found ourselves fugitives from the very government we believed were sworn to protect us.

  So fucking naïve!

  [He dives deeper.]

  Nonetheless, in order to paint a more precise and exact portrait, I must digress a few more years. I must put aside the colossal forces at work during that summer in ‘18 and explain from whence Katie Lorraine was sprung. From this explanation, you will begin to understand how and why Katie did things the way she did.

  Her mother, Giselle Agave - coining the perfect phase of an older generation – was a knockout. There is no other way to describe the woman, other than to say, she was a stone-cold fox. From the earliest onset of maturing, she attracted men of all ages just about everywhere she went. She was not a particularly smart individual nor did she possess much depth of personality or wit or humor. But, she did understand one thing and it was the only thing she ever needed in life – she knew she was beautiful.

  Unlike Katie, her mother, Giselle, was taller and longer of leg. She had black hair with just the hint of a bend to it at the top of her shoulders. She had brown eyes and an aquiline face with smooth pink cheeks and a long sweeping, but very delicate jaw. She had a thin neck leading to a slender, voluptuous frame complete with broad hips and equally impressive breasts.

  She was a sight to behold indeed.

  In high school, Giselle, not particularly athletic or physical in any way, played the role of the girly-girl. She dressed nicely, was impeccably groomed at all times, and often she pretended to be afraid of the tiniest little insect or speck of dirt. Sometimes a modest warming in the weather would illicit alarm and in a flash there was an awestruck boy willing to assist her during her moment of distress. Despite their numbers and varying types, she was not a slut. She didn’t sleep around, or at least not a lot. Not once did she take on the whole offensive line of the football team or get caught in your friendly game of “Let’s Gangbang the Drunk Girl”. I heard, although she did have more than a few boyfriends, she never had more than one at any given time.

  Truth be told, though, she really didn’t care about any of them. Her sights were set on a dashing, debonair, suit-wearing, disco-biscuit, named Ricardo Charon. He was that dude. He was the one who knew all of the latest High Energy dance moves and twirled on his feet like a Hispanic, pompadour sporting Fred Astaire. He was a fast talker, sly of wit and always seemed to have an ulterior motive. It was typically concealed at the corner of his eye when he looked at you, as if he were listening; giving the impression he was paying attention. But the topic of conversation never seemed foremost in his mind as if he were thinking of something else, something hidden and private. It was a creepy sort of gaze, if you caught it at the right moment. It made you wonder if he was thinking about you in ways you’d rather not know about.

  Anyhow, as was normally the case, when Giselle set her mind to something or someone, she almost always got her wish. True to form, she landed Ricardo Charon even though he was two years older than her and used to going out with girls closer to his own age.

  Now, Ricardo Charon, like Giselle in a way, was really only interested in one thing in life and nothing else - Ricardo Charon. He was tall, considering he came from Mexican stock on both sides of his family. He was nearly five foot, ten inches tall with jet black hair. He had a strong square jaw and piercing amber colored eyes that used to make the cha-cha’s¹ swoon. His wide mouth boasted thin lips, very pink. His skin was only a few shades darker than the slightest tanned Caucasian. He was nice to look at, from the female perspective, as one could imagine. But Ricardo wasn’t really interested in any one girl, because deep down, he was certain he was destined for much more – the dazzle and pomp of the Big Screen. Ricardo wanted to make it big in old Hollywood.

  And he wasted little time pursuing it.

  It was only a week after he turned eighteen, he filed paperwork, without his parents’ knowledge, and had his name officially changed to Ricky Chaz. Within months following graduation from High School, he went to a college for the performing arts to study acting. The only thing he ever cared about.

  Of course, Giselle was dazzled with thoughts of the glamorous life she would no doubt lead as the off-screen wife of a famous movie star. So much so, she made sure their destinies remained concurrent, and begged Ricardo (now Ricky) to go with her to Grad Night, a plan set firm in the back of her mind. Back then, this Right of Passage for High School Graduates consisted of an overnight visit to Disneyland, which would provide Giselle with the perfect opportunity to keep Ricky in her life, forever.

  After a lot of pleading and convincing (which most definitely involved a nice, long blowjob and swallow) Ricky relented to Giselle’s wiles and said he would accompany her to her last High School event… to his detriment.

  It was on the bus ride back to school where she made certain her future would be forever tied to Ricky’s and vice versa. She had bribed her friends to reserve the backmost seat on the bus. Then, she promptly dragged a very tired and pliant Ricky to it. Once there, she made him sit down. She had sat down next to him, unzipped his fly and quickly got him hard with one of her patented spit-n-palm hand-jobs. Next, she secretly wriggled out of her panties and, with the grace of a gazelle, sat upon the young man’s lap. With a gasp of shock, Ricky slipped inside of her.

  Giselle writhed like a pro.

  Ricky, not about to let this moment go to waste, got with the program and ground his cock into the teenage girl. It didn’t take long and soon he was about to cum. He began to pull out of her, but Giselle would have none of it and squeezed his prick as tightly as she could with her young vaginal walls. Now that she had him, she wasn’t about to let him go.

  Ricky found he couldn’t resist such a welcoming tightness, and pumped into her furiously for a few more seconds. With wild abandon, he busted his nut deep into the girl’s womb without the regret he should’ve felt. Giselle, even then, was good enough to make him forget himself. That was just the way she wanted things.

  Two months later, Giselle told Ricky she was pregnant. Three months after that they were married in a quickie wedding as lavish as Giselle’s parents could afford at the time. This was no more than a nice ceremony at the local Catholic Church and huge gathering in their backyard.

  In the old, faded pictures I have seen, as a child, it looked like a fun day, the entire family was in attendance, old and young faces alike, some of which I haven’t seen for a long, long time.

  Anyhow, they married, lived with Ricky’s parents for a few years. Then they bought a house in Pasadena, a bit away from both of their families. As Ricky saw it, no hot-shot actor could associate too close with his ethnic past, right? So, a little distance was prudent, if not necessary.

  Eventually, Ricky graduated from acting school and spent day after day going to auditions. He landed a few commercial spots, a quaint, but recurring skit at the Egyptian Theatre in Westwood, but not much else. By then, he and Giselle had two children, Ricky Jr. and Caroline. Giselle, as fertile as ever, was already cooking the third in the oven. It was to be yet another girl, who they decided would be named Marissa when she was born. They also had bills and a mortgage, car notes and credit card payments. That was about the time it was becoming quite obvious to Giselle, and maybe even moreso to Ricky, that acting might not be the career to get their family were it needed to be.

  Ricky grudgingly made a career change. He got into real estate. It would be a field that he would flourish.

  And why not? Think about it, what bett
er sort of salesman could there be, than one who was trained as an actor? Jesus H. Christ, he had his clients eating out of his palm on the drive over before they laid eyes on a property. None of them stood a fucking chance against the persuasive will of Ricky Chaz.

  At the same time though, there was a distinctive downside to his newfound success. Real Estate made him feel phony. Over time, from that festering sense of falsity, Ricky began to resent those around him and bleed negativity wherever he went. It got so bad; it wasn’t long before he felt like he couldn’t do anything without telling a lie or bending the truth. His entire life was a lie. He should’ve been an actor, not a realtor. It was Giselle who held him back from his dreams, his impending greatest. He began to rot from the inside out. He took to the bottle to cleanse that putridity in the middle of his gut, which inevitably led him down even darker paths. Soon it was cocaine to stave off the effects of the alcohol, then speed to keep up the pace of his rigorous days - and nights…

  By then, he and Giselle were weekly attendees at special “couples only” parties held around town. Anything was the name of the game now. What had started out as experimentation, an attempt to try new things, to spice up their love lives, had become something else. Every time they did it, they liked it more. The separation was welcomed. Until, it became more enjoyable to watch the other screw a stranger, than it was to do the act together. Their passions altered, twisted, as did their marriage. Only the money and sharing their bodies with others seemed to keep them a couple.

  For this too, there was a price. It led them down the road to deeper reaches of desolation and destruction, because on so many different levels, they weren’t emotionally prepared for the gulf that grew between them. Neither of them was mature enough to know how to handle a sudden lack of conflicting emotions and desires. Feelings they brazenly expressed with others, but struggled to find within their relationship. The spark had died and was eventually forgotten in the midst of their wild, sexual escapades with people they didn’t know. Their indifference grew, annoyance became to norm as they hallowed out and turned to nothing more than husks of the people they had once been. They spread malcontent discord to everyone around them. They were like a disease, that annoying outbreak of herpes – always surfacing at the wrong time, embarrassing, painful.

  [He rises a few levels.]

  I know this is a harsh description of people none of you know, but it is the truth, and we should never shy form the truth… besides, they were cancerous.

  [He dips back down.]

  Katie Lorraine Chaz was born into this twisted, feral free-for-all. It was the climate she that almost doomed her. Like her older siblings, it affected her on many levels. So many, in fact, it would take forever to point them out here. It’s safe to say, she was irrevocably damaged by them. It also didn’t help that her father would scream at her when she brought home bad grades, yelling that she would never amount to anything in life. To him, she was stupid and brainless.

  One of the last things, he had told her, before she had run away and came hurtling back into my life, was she would never amount to nothing more than a cock hungry whore like her mother. One day, he prophesized, she would wake-up to find two dicks up her ass and that act alone, would be the pinnacle of her life’s accomplishments. It would be the highlight of her pathetic existence in this world. When she had screamed at him to fuck off, he had slapped her so hard across the face, she had fallen to the ground in a heap. At that point, there was little else to do, but run away and she did. All because she’d come home two hours late that night. It was the beginning of the end between Katie and her parents. They would never again live in the same house.

  I could see why Katie wanted to get away. I understood why she wanted to lose herself in drugs or in the pleasures of sex. She wanted to hang around people who talked nice to her, even if they were faking it, because, to her, at least they were making an effort. This was more than either of her parents ever had given her. I understood the anguish and self-loathing she sometimes felt, because I had felt something similar with my father as well, but that was a milder tale, not nearly as severe as what Katie had to live through.

  My father was just a skinny, immature sack of dried up shit, no bones about it. Because of his demeaning diatribes, one could say that, in the very least, I got the gist of some of what Katie had gone through. I understood some of the truth of her life and what it was doing to her. I think that’s why I could always read Katie so well. Because of our tiny connection, she was an open book to me most of the time.

  Anyhow, by the time, Katie jumped into the front seat of that stolen car and got herself into a heap of trouble, she was living in another state. Her family had moved from Pasadena to Glendora a decade earlier. Then, they moved to Corona a couple of years later. After that, it was a move to Temecula, almost five years ago.

  Ricky believed it was critical to get his family out of the urban sprawl of Los Angeles, a city that was corrupting his children right before his eyes. There was no telling him, he was the root cause of their anguish, because, in his mind, he could do no wrong.

  Thus, he did what all raging alcoholics would do, the inconceivable, and moved his entire family to Oklahoma City, Ok after only a brief stay in the Inland Empire. Under the guise of a fabricated real estate boom in the city, he yelled to the heavens above, “I will not pass up this opportunity!” He couldn’t let it go untapped by his family. There was a fortune to be made!

  By moving his five, floundering children to a boring, regional town with one-tenth the ‘things-to-do”, when compared to Los Angeles, the effect was exactly opposite the one he’d envisioned – it changed them all for the worst. The boys became inverted. Katie’s oldest brother, Ricky Jr. had thrown himself into running long distances and hardly ever talked, preferring solitude to the company of his family. Her baby brother James stayed in his room reading comics and books at all hours of the day. He seemed incapable of relating to anything real. Cartoons and drawn characters were all he could fathom. All else was too confusing, too painful to endure.

  The girls… well, they did whatever the fuck they wanted, and there was none worse than Katie. Caroline, Katie’s oldest sister, was the spitting image of her mother, gorgeous, leggy, a man magnet. Unlike her mother, she was conniving and avaricious – a ball-busting bitch that made sure her men knew she was in charge. This was rumored to extend to the bedroom as well, but I was never certain. Strangely enough, though, Caroline did display a degree of restraint and only dabbled in drugs lightly. Her preferences were the more carnal pleasures than psychedelics. She never went down that road toward inevitable implosion, though, she did enough to hurt herself in other ways.

  She was self-centered and quite able of forcing herself not give a shit about any of her family members. She had an uncanny ability of tuning them out. She’d flip on MTV or jump on Facebook or listen to her MP3 player and ignore the lot of them. By the time Katie had run away, Caroline had gone through many, many boyfriends, four abortions and was as hard as stone. She was as cold as stone too.

  Marissa, Katie’s sister who was only a year older than her, was a female reflection of her father, light skinned, black hair, thinner, shorter than her two other sisters. She was more docile by nature and tended to talk quietly and slowly, making sure you understood what she was saying. She was an unassuming girl, who got below average grades, liked boys, but not enough to fuck them. She only smoked pot, but even then, she only partook on occasion. What Marissa did do though, was simply stay away. She was more than adept at finding parties to attend or boys to ask her out on a date. She was always at a friend’s house, having dinner with, staying overnight. She shunned her own home constantly. She loathed watching her father constantly ridicule her mother, witness, as her mother swallowed every insult. She was sick of seeing her father sopping drunk, sprawled unconscious in the hallway with his fat ass-crack showing over his overworked bikini briefs. She stayed away and quietly longed for the old days before all the money her fat
her was making had messed everything up, before he had mangled her childhood.

  It was Katie, as you might have guessed, who turned out to be the most self-destructive. It was Katie who stole from her Dad’s stash of cocaine. She snatched his uppers, his downers, and his genetically enhanced marijuana. She took just about everything his stupid, drunk ass left out or hadn’t bolted down or locked behind a vault. It was Katie who took the most risks. It was Katie who cared the least.

  It was Katie who had run away…

  …And that’s what led up to the summer in 2018 when Katie had run from her father’s rage and contempt. This was the night she had texted her latest fuck-buddy, a loser dude named Chad Bennings, telling him, she was running away. She had typed her message in typical Katie fashion. If you wanna keep fucking this pussy, you better come and get me!

  Chad had showed up at the park where all the teenagers hung out, where Katie waited. It was dark by then; the park had been empty for hours. Katie’s cheek was still stung from where her father had struck her, after he’d foretold of her dual-butt fucking future, after she had screamed at him to fuck off.

  It had been almost three in the morning when Chad had asked what was up and Katie replied simply, “Take me away”.