El Finito Book 1

by M. E. Thorne

  The tram lurched forward. Valash stormed into my car, his rage boiling over. I just smirked and said nothing.

  He was just lining up for a kick when everything buckled and shook. A horrifying screech echoed through the tunnel as everything tipped to the side and the tram threatened to derail.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Valash screamed into his radio.

  “Something is blocking the way,” the conductor replied, voice tight. “The tunnel is full of webs! It’s a trap!”

  “Go faster!” ordered Valash. “Faster!”

  The damn idiot is going to get us all --

  I didn’t get a chance to finish that thought. The tram sped up and then thrashed violently.

  Everything went insane. I was thrown about by a series of battering collisions. The Syndicate soldiers screamed. I could hear them being tossed around like rag dolls. Bracing myself as best I could against the crate walls, I held on for dear life.

  When we finally came to a rest, I saw the car I was in hadn’t overturned. The lab table had been bolted down, but everything on its surface had been knocked about. The cardboard boxes had spilled open as well. Paperwork, broken devices, and junk were everywhere. The DNA tracker was a shattered mess, and I could see samples of my blood were splattered all over the floors and walls.

  The cars in front of mine had completely derailed. Looking down the connecting passage gave me a sense of vertigo as the floor and ceiling were flipped ninety-degrees. I could see soldiers, either fallen and motionless or slowly trying to get up.

  Valash was working his way down the twisted car, kicking his soldiers into motion or stepping over those who were dead. His injured arm had slipped loose from his sash and hung crookedly against his side. He held a pistol in his good hand. Rallying a disoriented soldier, he ordered the man to grab a rifle and follow him.

  He awkwardly climbed into my car. He gave a satisfied grin upon seeing that I was still stuck in my cage.

  I turned away and looked out the window. The tunnel was full of thin, translucent webs, stacked one atop another, blocking the way. There must be hundreds of them. Did Spinny do all this?

  Valash, apparently drawing the same conclusion I did, screamed, “We’re under attack!”

  A window shattered. Glass sprayed everywhere. Valash and the soldier instinctually covered their faces.

  Gnasher landed in their midst, all rage and fury. She slashed her claws upward, forcing the soldier to dodge backward or have his suit ripped to shreds. He attempted to level his gun, but she lashed out, striking him across the face. Her next blow sent him flying out a window.

  Valash, slow to react, was knocked over as Gnasher struck him in the chest.

  “Fucking asshole,” Gnasher screamed, kicking him hard in the injured shoulder. He wilted and fell back.

  “Hey, babe,” I called weakly. “Can I get in on that action?”

  She snapped out of her rage and hurried over. Slipping her fingers through the air holes, she tore the plastic apart with a single, wrenching yank. She threw away the lid and helped me up. All my joints protested at the sudden but welcomed change in posture.

  Staggering forward, I looked around in confusion. “What the hell is going on?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said, grabbing me around the shoulders, “We need to --”

  Valash shot her in the gut.

  Gnasher grunted and bent double, hands going to the wound spurting blood from her stomach.

  “Motherfucker,” I screamed, my vision going red.

  He tried to line up another shot, but it went wild as I rushed him. I smashed the gun out of his hand, grabbing his wrist and slamming it against the lab table. He tried to brace himself and tackle me, but his injured arm couldn’t support his weight. Instead, he buckled, giving me an opening to step over him and get on his back.

  I grabbed his sash, bunched it in my fists, and pulled tight. His injured arm was caught and yanked upward, trapped against his helmet as I began to strangle him. He struck me feebly with his free arm, but I couldn’t even feel the blows.

  All I could think about was Gnasher.

  Rearing back, I tightened my hold on the sash as I drove his faceplate into the corner of the table. Any noises he made were drowned out by my savage screams as I repeatedly hammered his face down. I didn’t stop until I heard the plastic crack and break.

  “Locke, Locke!”

  I broke out of my fugue and let Valash fall limply to the floor. Gnasher was on her back, hands pressed against her stomach.

  “Gnasher! Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?” she said, giving me a weak smile. “I came to rescue you, and it looks like you turned things around on me.”

  Gloria landed through a broken window, her face aghast. She turned and yelled through the broken opening. “Here, we need a medic! Hurry!”

  A squad of Panacea climbed through the window. Three of them quickly came over and began to help Gnasher, pressing a bandage against her wound to staunch the bleeding. Another gave me a quick check as my sudden strength gave out and I wobbled and fell.

  “Locke! What happened?” Gloria anxiously leaned over.

  Dazed, with blood still rushing to my ears, I could only grunt and point towards the crumpled form of Valash.

  The stupid bastard was somehow still alive. He had flopped over onto his back, pawing at his bloody, fractured faceplate. The atmosphere in his suit was leaking as he desperately tried to seal the cracks.

  Ignoring him, I turned to the Panacea. “Is she going to be okay?”

  One of them nodded. Together, they carefully picked Gnasher up and carried her outside. Gloria reluctantly followed them. I was shocked when a squad of State soldiers came in, guns leveled as they inspected the scene.

  The Panacea nursing me stopped to point to the boxes and Honormark materials scattered around the car. Slinging their weapons, the soldiers started picking up and carrying everything they could.

  “Come with me,” the Panacea instructed.

  Utterly confused, I could only limp after him as he carefully handed me out the window to another one of his kin waiting outside. I gave Valash one last glance, but he had stopped moving.

  A small army filled the tunnel. Not just Panacea and State soldiers, but the rest of my group as well. Spinny and two Arachne I didn’t recognize hung on the ceiling. The tunnel was full of their webs, the tramcars snagged and wrapped up in a thousand fine threads.

  They were working on restraining the remaining Syndicate soldiers, who were streaming out of the tram and trying to escape. The Arachne easily snared them, allowing the State troops to round them up. A steady stream of hazmat-wearing prisoners was being marched away while under guard.

  The Panacea had set up a triage area along the side of the track. Gnasher gave a weak thumbs-up as they began to treat her gunshot wound. They assured me she’d be fine. I paused briefly to thank her again, kissing her brow.

  Spinny went ashen when she saw Gnasher was injured. She hurried off the tunnel ceiling and went to hold her girlfriend’s hand.

  Sabra stood nearby, quickly inventorying the boxes and items the State soldiers were carrying out; she didn’t look at the captured Syndicate members as they were marched away.

  “Locke, are you okay? What happened, where’s Valash?” she asked as I brushed off the Panacea trying to direct me back to the triage area.

  “Dead,” I answered, “or he will be. I cracked his helmet.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Good.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  Marcella came out of the crowd, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I felt a cool wave of sedation drift through me, but I didn’t mind. My aches and pains were coming back in full force, and I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stand.

  “Once we escaped the ambush under the reactor, we alerted the State to everything that had happened,” the slug-woman said, as she checked my leg. “They were quick to react, mobilizing their
forces to stop Valash’s escape. They tried to capture the spaceport but were repelled. We suggested intercepting the tram instead.”

  “How did you find me?" I shook my head, “I thought this tramline was a secret?”

  “Working with Grand Cooper Station, we alerted every colony on the planet about the situation,” Marcella answered. “Assuming the Syndicate was trying to take you to the spaceport, we asked all nearby colonies to monitor any potential routes in and out. Once they were aware of what to look for, they focused on the tram tunnels. After that, they quickly located the tram”

  “Coordinating together, Gnasher suggested we set up an ambush." She had me sit down on a bit of rubble and ran a hand along my brow. “This subway tunnel was considered ideal for the task. We took steps to make sure the tram would come this way.”

  “You collapsed the bridge,” I realized.

  “The Delvers’ Guild contributed the explosives that were used” she nodded. Her face softened a bit, “I am happy we were able to come to your rescue.”

  “Me too." I felt another wave of dizziness as I remembered something. I grabbed her arm. “We have to torch the train!”

  “What?" Gloria had been sitting by Gnasher’s side but dashed over at my shout.

  “Once it’s emptied, we have to set it on fire,” I said, feeling suddenly feverish. “Valash took samples from me, he found out about my condition. They spilled everywhere during the crash. We can’t risk leaving a trace behind.”

  “A reasonable precaution,” Marcella answered.

  “I’ll let the soldiers know,” Sabra hurried off to help speed up the evacuation, Gloria joined her. Together, they rallied the State soldiers to clear out the remaining contents as quickly as possible.

  Marcella wordlessly gathered a group of her kin. They pulled out several glass containers and began filling them with odorous liquids. As the State soldiers rushed to finish carrying out the last of the boxes, the Panacea tossed the flasks through the windows. They burst into cherry-red flames, which swiftly consumed the wrecked tram.

  The Panacea directed us down a nearby, hidden stairwell. As we left, I lingered just a moment to watch as the whole thing went up like a funeral pyre.

  Epilogue

  Marcella was laying on the edge of the bed, her legs spread open as I speared into her. She grunted in pleasure as I slowly worked my girth into her pussy.

  As I fully planted myself and tried to enjoy the experience, I couldn’t help but think how crazy my life had become in the last few weeks. It’s all so insane, I can’t even begin --

  “Focus,” she requested, glaring at me.

  “Sorry,” I murmured, bending down to kiss her. Her lips were wet and cold, but welcoming, and our tongues gently wrestled back and forth. She then pushed me back and encouraged me to keep going.

  I began to work my way in and out of her, building a slow, gentle flow. I’d only been out of the hospital for about a week and I hadn’t fully recovered my stamina. Marcella didn’t seem to mind as long as I didn’t zone out again and forget about what we were doing. She let me set the pace.

  She slowly began to jerk herself off. I occasionally stopped to lend her a hand, but I mostly concentrated on holding onto her hips and running my hands along her slick sides.

  Her breathing picked up a bit as her small but firm breasts heaved along her chest. Arching her back each time I fully plunged into her, her slim figure wrapped in ecstasy was a great encouragement to keep me in the moment. I tried to set a rhythm that matched her hands stroking her cock.

  I couldn’t keep it up for long though. Feeling a bit light-headed, I popped loose for a moment. Laying down on the bed next to her, I caught my breath. Though my leg had healed, it still wasn’t as strong as it had been before.

  We kissed again as she spared a hand to run her slimy fingers over my member, helping me keep the mast up while my leg muscles rested. I returned the favor, slowly sliding a hand along her antenna. She squirmed at each caress, particularly when I circled a finger around the tip.

  I groaned as her fingers worked over the head of my cock, slipping along the tip. “Damn.”

  “Please be sure not to climax prematurely,” she said, her voice holding only a hint of mockery. “I want another full DNA sample deposited inside of me.”

  “You have the weirdest way of asking for a creampie,” I chuckled.

  Feeling ready again, I stood back up and positioned myself along her entrance. Marcella moaned lewdly as I thrust back inside. Her pussy clamped down as I pulled in and out of her, my renewed vigor helping us build towards a heady climax. Her cock was straining; she no longer needed any assistance in pleasuring herself. Instead, she clutched the sheets, bunching them in her fists.

  I barely dodged the first string of cum that she shot out. Her entire body shuddered and her pussy closed on me like a fist. I couldn’t take it anymore. With a white-hot moan, I let loose my blast as she came again, painting her sheets white with her cum. My own seed spilled heavily out of her.

  Avoiding the wet spots, I slumped down against the edge of the bed. Grabbing two of the nearby bottles of water, I drank one and handed the other to Marcella. She was panting like someone who had just finished a marathon.

  “That was more intense than expected,” she said, swiftly regaining her usual composure.

  I finished the first bottle and reached for another. Ever since my change, I found I was majorly dehydrated after sex. Probably because I lose half my body mass when I cum, I thought as I absently poked my deflated balls.

  “Thank you for your hard work,” Marcella ushered me away from the bed as she pulled the sheets off and threw them in a nearby hamper.

  As far as we knew she never actually slept in the bed, it was only used for sex. She had brought a small rock pile from her colony and placed it in the corner of her room, and we all just assumed she rested there when needed.

  Gnasher and I had been in the hospital for two weeks.

  For the first week, I was treated for all the injuries I had picked up during our adventures; a bruised kidney, an infected knife wound, a mild concussion, and several dozen fractured bones and contusions. Even with my above baseline healing, it was a slow recovery.

  Thankfully, they kept Gnasher in the same room and even lent us a video player and a library of movies to watch. By the third day, Gnasher had recovered enough to complain about my movie choices and snatch away the remote, insisting we were going to put on some romance flicks for a change.

  Spinny came to see us often, usually staying long after visiting hours had ended. She’d sit by Gnasher’s side and hold her hand during movies while I reached across the narrow space between our beds and held Gnasher’s other.

  Of Gloria, there was no sign, but we did get an unsigned get well card tucked into a large fruit basket. Sabra sent us a brief note stating that she was happy we were recovering and apologizing for being unable to visit.

  The second week was nothing but tests and having samples taken. As part of my rescue, my friends had been forced to divulge to the State the nature of my condition. Needless to say, their physicians were ecstatic to hear about my reproductive capabilities. Marcella came to visit frequently, consulting with them and sharing the Panacea’s findings after I gave my consent.

  Based on their DNA experts, I had been exposed to some kind of experimental mutagenic treatment. My body automatically read and adapted to whomever I was being intimate with. When aroused, mutated glands within my reproductive system would begin producing specialized chemicals to trigger ovulation, increase the odds of fertilization, and prepare the uterus to accept the fertilized egg. Additionally, my testicles would begin to create customized sperm that would genetically match my mate, ensuring we were always compatible no matter what sort of human-hybrid they were.