by C T Scribe
33
Chapter 33
Deb didn’t like this part. She made it a point to tell her lovers about Thomas. When other men heard her proposition, and took in all her fine features they always agreed. They were immortals. Of course they loved sex. Immortal sex was free from all the troubles mortals encounter during the act. Disease in the traditional sense did not affect them. Also pregnancy was not an issue for immortals. Sex was less of a relationship activity, and more of a leisurely one. However, every time Deb reminded her partners that she would need time away to see to Thomas, they always gave her shit. Remnants of a mortal life she supposed. She did pick younger partners, as older mates that weren’t friends with Thomas were limited. She knew her true partner would be sleep for at least two days. So tonight she would see Martin ,and after some exercise she would tell him they were on break. She hoped he would have enough sense to accept it. She didn’t want to trouble Thomas with such nonsense. A few times her lovers had the nerve to corner Thomas. To attempt to fight for her. To fight the infamous tall man. Sometimes she would intervene. Once even, she fought the man herself. Other times however, Thomas would fight. Clearly holding back his true strength he had already killed 4 ex lovers of Deb. It wasn’t jealousy that drove him to murder. In fact it was the opposite. The men would try trapping or ganging up on Thomas. And if he had to release part of his true power in such a confined space, killing those around him was near impossible not to do. Her shift in the kitchen had been long today. She had heard last night through the mission channels that many were injured. She had heard about the deaths of Morris and the others. She didn’t work in the field. Not for lack of strength, but her talents lay in cooking. She had a unique level of mana control. By infusing healing and regenerative mana into her recipes she kept her customers in top shape. Upon hearing that Thomas would be returning to HQ she put extra mana into a special meal for him. She knew the regenerative energies would make him sleep. He always slept when he came back. She even made him a special cake to help with his sex drive. It was ravenous, but the mission usually stayed on his mind. Her special cake would allow him to get lost in the moment with her. She led her team in the work of preparing the food for those returning and damaged. Also making the usual meals for all those lodged at HQ. She was truly drained by the end of her shift. Her mana stores nearly depleted. She decided to let her team complete the kitchen cleaning as she set off to find Martin. He was a worker bee of sorts. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but that was from his temper. He could never keep a cool head in the field. He never passed his assessments, and over the years he found himself working in HQ maintenance. There was nothing wrong with that. She often wished Thomas had a HQ job instead of field work. Checking the maintenance wing of HQ the other grease monkeys said he was off for the night. She headed towards the living quarters next. It took her a moment to find the lift. It appears HQ had shifted itself a bit since she started work today. Once off the lift she made the usual twist and turns until she got to his room. Using the bell Martin answered seconds later. Fresh from the shower his body glistened as he put on his shirt in the doorway. Rippling muscles barely covered by the tight white T-shirt. Deb licked her lips taking him in. He was fun she thought as she pushed him into the room and onto the bed. She could tell he wanted to speak, but she moved her body in ways to quiet his mouth as she mounted him. Without undressing she thrust her body on top of his. Feeling his immortal strength pulse through her. Her hips grinding into his own at incomprehensible speed. He tried to switch positions, as he always did, but she pushed him back easily. Reversing her stance on his body she continued to dominate him. His moans gave her both pleasure and amusement. This boy was fun. She could use his body however she wanted. She would miss the control. With Thomas it was different. Thinking of the control he used on her made her body more moist as she rode Martin. He had long since reached his climax, but she refused to stop until she was satisfied. As satisfied as he could make her at least. She dominated him. Taking in every weakness she had grown fond of over the past year. The inexperience she enjoyed exploiting. The fledgling bravado she helped take flight. After her he would easily find another lover. Despite her excitement over Thomas, she wouldn’t enjoy thinking of his new lover benefiting from the many lessons she taught him. Leaning back as she thrust her hips forward in strong rhythmic strokes she could feel the curl in his toes. She imagined his twisted face as she took his body over and over. Yes she would miss the domination she enjoyed with Martin. She also longed for someone to do this exact thing to her. To take her past her limits. To bend her sexually to his desires. Her thoughts shifted from Martin to Thomas with lightning speed. She could feel his phantom hand clutching her throat. She pushed harder with her body at the thought. Martin moaned. She didn’t care about what his body had to endure for her satisfaction. With her mind focused on Thomas she continued to satisfy herself throughout the long night.
When morning came Deb showered and dressed for work as she always would. She was at the door when she realized today required another task before she left. Martin lay there dead to the world. Immortals needed little rest. It was more habit than necessity. However after last night his life force was low. He truly needed the rest. A guilty grin turned at the corners of her lips realizing how much she had worn him out. Straddling his body she woke him with a kiss. After several moments his eyes blinked open. Taking in her position made him squirm. Last night was amazing, but he couldn’t have it again so soon. His body felt ragged and heavy. His penis numb and burning simultaneously. He needed time to recover. She pulled at his pants, making a show of unbuttoning them. He grabbed her wrist to stop her. She resisted. Shaking his hands from her as she continued working at his pants. He grabbed her again more forcefully. “Stop,” he said in a stiff voice.
“What’s wrong, can’t handle me little boy,” she replied. Her voice was sensual, but it also held a hint of irritation.
“Tonight,” Martin said. “Well do more tonight.” With crossed arms she eyed him. He knew that look. He knew nothing good would come of it. He had to think of something better to say. He started to kiss her. She stopped him.
“Now or never.” It was a challenge. A challenge he couldn’t handle. Just kissing her drained the embers of energy he felt warming his body. The heaviness grew. He felt cold. Her arms crossed again as she began shouting. Martin was so disoriented he could only register some of the shouting. She called him weak. She said she needed a real man. That she didn’t want to see him anymore. She was storming out of the room before he could reply. His vision went black. The fatigue took him. And she was gone.
34
Chapter 34
Martin woke up slightly behind schedule. He felt weak from the nights activities. His body ached in places it shouldn’t. If it hadn’t been for the way Deb left, he’d be feeling great. This wasn’t the first time she stormed out on him. Once she left after sex yelling and cursing at him for being too weak for her. Another time she left crying for reasons he never could get her to say. Any attempt to bring it up, and she’d quickly shut the conversation down. Over the course of the year they’d been seeing each other, he grew ever more accustomed to her outburst. One time he starting seeing someone else. It took a week for Deb to find out, and come pounding on his door. Reluctantly letting her in he sat back, and watched her beat the girl within an inch of her second life. She would come back. After last night his body could use a day or two of rest anyways. Rolling out of bed was its own chore today. As he pulled on his jumpsuit he could feel the cells of his muscles screaming in pain. As an immortal he was gifted with hypersensitivity. It made him good at HQ maintenance. He could see the details of problems others couldn’t. Hypersensitivity was a perfect attribute for the maintenance crew. In this instance he could see the damage Deb did to his body. She was gifted with the ability to absorb and distribute energy. She could infuse her healing energies into the food for everyone here. An invaluable skill. When they had sex she had a tendency to absorb and n
ot distribute. His gifts made him a suitable partner for her. He was able to let her take him to the brink of death, and tell her when to stop. He could simply tell when his cells had nothing left to give. Last night he nearly used the safe word they put in place for this very situation. A few days apart would be therapy for his body. It needed the mending, but he had to work first. He’d take lunch in another diner than Deb’s today. The food wouldn’t be as good, but he’d give her the space she needs. Leaving his room switching his walkie on, he headed for the maintenance room. Easily navigating the path it only took a few minutes to arrive at work. For some reason he never got lost at HQ like others did. None of the maintenance guys did. He wasn’t sure if it was his sensitivity simply telling him where to go, or if the magical being that created HQ somehow guided them to what needs fixed. Walking inside the maintenance room he saw he was last to arrive, again. All eyes were on him as he entered. As he looked back at the others in their black and red jumpsuits he was reminded of his inexperience here. He was the only maintenance member under 80 human years old. Immortals started counting age from their respective change date. Everyone here had been into their second life for two or three generations. Martin had been an immortal nearly two years. In many ways he was their child. They all worked hard to teach him how to use his gifts. They all worked hard as well. You wouldn’t think a magical being off such magnitude would need a full time staff of 20 to keep it running. You wouldn’t think it, because most people give it little thought. The constant camouflage, shifting and morphing to desired needs, repairing itself from outside attack and weather damage, as well as repairing itself from inside training and combat practice took a devastating toll on the beast HQ. Even an ancient magical being couldn’t sustain a group this large without assistance. In that way the maintenance crew had a unique bond with the beast they all lived inside. When damage started to show entire sections of the building would shut down. If left in that state long enough they would cease to exist and HQ would shrink. In a way, the maintenance crew raised the most magical puppy ever to step through the void. They continuously healed and nurtured it to help it grow. They were the beast antibodies, and white blood cells. They healed damage from all matter of magical distortions, so everyone else could simply live together peacefully. Martin rather liked his job. He was still an apprentice technically. As an apprentice he never took assignments alone. Martin had spent the year bouncing from one senior maintenance member to another. Each day he soaked up knowledge they offered, cataloging more and more ways to repair HQ. Each day he came one step closer to changing his blue jumpsuit for a black one. The other nineteen members of the maintenance team each sat at their respective workstations. Each one tinkering or talking as they waited on the newbie apprentice to get here. Martin was always last to arrive. He sometimes wondered if the older members started earlier than he did. In the early days of his apprenticeship he tried arriving ten or fifteen minutes early, but he was still the last one there. The following day he arrived thirty minutes early, but once again he was last. Everyone sat at their workstations much like today. No one seemed to mind waiting on him. The days work was the days work. As a mortal Martin was never good at keeping deadlines. This laid back atmosphere suited him well. Once he was at his workstation everyone else stopped fidgeting, and looked ahead to their boss, G. Martin never knew her full name. Everyone called her Boss G, so he did the same. Sitting on her workstation dangling her feet she looked back at everyone as if silently taking attendance before she spoke. As she spoke in her heavy Irish accent she detailed areas of damage at HQ. Next she gave out assignments for the day. Martin was to apprentice under Brook today. He got along with all the members of the maintenance crew, but Brook was his favorite one to work with. They set off before the other crew left their workstations. Today’s job, the repair of an outer wall of HQ. They walked to the work site laughing and joking, as they always did. With Brook he felt less like an apprentice, and more like a younger brother. The two immortals had a similar build, sense of humor, taste in women, and the list goes on and on. He was glad that Brook never took an interest in Deb. He was his best mate at HQ. As they walked he told him all about his activities last night. When it came to the fight, Brook looked away from him. He offered him a small head nod in consolation. Martin thought his friends reaction was off. Typically Brook would laugh off these things. Make some raunchy remark about women. Today however he had no such levity. Arriving to the work site Martin realized why. The outer wall wasn’t a wall anymore. Where a wall should be housed a living breathing mound of flesh. Thick hair like follicles covering the fleshy area. As if breathing the area expanded and contracted laboriously stuttering at times. The jerky movements sent vibrations under their feet. The surrounding walls and building creaked with each jerk. Cracks formed down the adjoining walls. Upon taking it in Brook let out a particularly nasty string of curses. Martin didn’t know where to start. HQ is alive. He knew it to be true. He’s seen small breakdowns in its building like appearance, but this was different. This seemed like a job for Boss G, not Brook and the apprentice. As if reading his thoughts Brook looked to his friend saying, “Oh no this one’s all ours.” The exposed flesh of HQ smelled sour like spoiled meat rotting. The skin was pale in color. Martin didn’t know if this was it’s natural color or a sign of disease or infection. He examined everything closely. The hair like follicles were slimy down to the root. Something was oozing from them. It reminded Martin of how alcohol seeps from skin after a bender. Alcohol which is technically poison. He needed to get a better idea of what HQ looked like in its natural form.
In their work bags they had all manner of tools. The tools were ordinarily human. They were excellently crafted, but ordinary tools. Most problems were fixed as ordinary maintenance problems would be. Tightening leaky pipes of replacing tiles or lights. Simply put, they helped HQ where it was having a hard time keeping proper form. In their bag they also had the book. The book was a detailed account of everything known about the beast they dwelled inside. Martin thought the beast skin should be black. This flesh was a pale whitish gray hue. He needed to be sure before making the conclusion of discoloration. Brook was preparing tools Martin hadn’t seen on previous jobs. Martin wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he felt as if his teacher for the day was giving him time to assess the situation. Opening the HQ manual, and quickly finding the pages on physical properties of the beast he skimmed the writing. The passage read:
“Physical properties of morphlings. Morphlings can assume many shapes and sizes based on need. They can start off as small house pets, our tentacled beast larger than dinosaurs. Many dinosaurs were in fact morphlings who adjusted their being too the primal lands of early Earth. In their natural state morphlings have black smooth skin. They have four sets of arms and legs. The beast have no nose or ears.”
As he thought the beast should have black skin. Turning to Brook he said, “what can we do for this skin discoloration?”
“Oh that. Well it is a symptom of infection. What can cause a morphling infection my young student?” Brook asking the question in his best Jedi Master impersonation.
“Certain magical energies usually resulting from level two or above attacks in the training room. But, we’re pretty far from the training pits aren’t we?” They were. They were on the street level of a perimeter building. Lately HQ had grown. The buildings surrounding it were all vacant. Slowly the beast had tunneled under them and eaten the original structures. No one noticed, because it replaced them with identical buildings of its own creation. They were a new part of HQ now. Martin remembered over hearing some people at the diner a few months back talking about expanding the perimeter. They were higher ups. They were there discussing with Deb while the two shared a lunch. She was an old immortal, and often the higher ups consulted her for various things. At times he felt like Deb was secretly running the entire operation. It appeared that HQ was responding to the new demand from that day. Perhaps the expansion was putting too much strain on the
beast. The book says this morphling was originally in the state of a gecko. Martin wondered how large it could grow. “I do think the damage is from violence, but this didn’t happen in here. This happened outside. Let’s check the cameras,” said Brook. Pulling up the feed didn’t take long. The men scrolled through a few drunks walking the street. An occasional lost car driving by. They scrolled back and back until they finally found it. A woman walking away from HQ. Neither of them recognized her. They followed her for a few minutes until they saw something dart across the street lamps. Zooming in they saw one of the most hunted monsters in their sector on screen. With the ability to manipulate form, as all other beast can, coupled with his master of shadow he’s been troublesome to track over the last century. The woman wore pink heels. She was very attractive, and seemed to be having a drunken conversation with herself. As she walked down the street she jumped as things crossed the path of the streetlight. She could never know of the monster playing these games with her. They watched as he toyed with this strange beautiful woman. Watched as she didn’t give in to fear until the very end. Martin refusing to look away took as his final chomp decapitated her. He drank her body dry of blood in the alley. It wasn’t just a bite however. He released so much energy when switching to his beastly form before biting her. When he lunged out at the woman, the energy surged forward as well. A normal wall would have crumbled. The HQ wall fought against the attack remaining intact. At least on the outside. On the inside the damage was much more substantial. Brook took out the huge drill he had been tinkering with. Handing it to Martin instructing him to stab at the source of infection. Using his ability he focused on the jerking flesh before him. He saw nothing. His hypersensitivity should have found the source for him. The spot alluding to him in a way that was hard to explain. Damn Deb for draining him so completely last night. He focused again. Still nothing happened. With a slightly disappointed look Brook positioned the drill for him. He’d never get out of these blue robes he thought as he pierced the beings flesh with the oversized drill. Removing the drill Brook inserted a syringe into the new wound that before wouldn’t be strong enough to penetrate the hide itself. He injected a large amount of healing potion. Enough in fact to heal an entire infantry squad. The jerky breathing remained. Brook injected even more potion. No change. Going into his bag he grabbed a special small syringe. Martin knew this shot. Brook had called it a hailmary when things weren’t looking good. He prepped the last resort, and headed for the beast hide. As he approached the beast the jerkiness eased into rhythmic breathing. A flush of color quickly shot through the infected flesh. Brook put the last resort back into his bag. Looking at Martin he said, “ok now patch the wall.” Returning to the bags Brook sat down and started to snore as Martin worked on the more traditional repairs.