“Tell me,” Kane said evenly.
It took a few false starts. “Thank…Thank you,” she managed at last. “I feel so full. He’s fucking me so good. Thank you, K—ah!”
The big man had yanked her up by the hair so that he could crush her breasts in his hands. His hips worked with violence, forcing the rhythm that Sue-Eye used against her own prone partner. “Don’t thank him, thank me,” he growled. “Tell me, honey.”
“I-I’m s-so ungh! So h-hot and ungh! Thank you for f-fucking me!” A tear slipped from one eye and streaked down the glowing coal of her cheek. “I w-want more!”
Kane leaned out and gently kicked the young male watching from the carpet. “She wants more,” he explained.
The male bounded up and onto the bed, straddling the fat one’s head so Sue-Eye could take his cock in her mouth. She uttered a single, shuddering scream before the young male gagged her.
Kane admired his work, his hand stroking Raven’s shoulder, feeling her shiver. She was probably afraid of being thrown into the mix of them and he was content to let her be afraid, but he’d never do it. Sue-Eye was a perfect poem of human misery that needed no assistant. She wasn’t even moving anymore; they were moving her, trapping her between the three of them in a storm of bodies. She was a doll in their cooperative grip, voiceless and powerless. She was bruising right before his eyes, her flesh pulled and shoved and battered.
The leader was cumming already. For all his size, he had no stamina. Kane released Raven with a pat and strolled over to the bed. He caught the human’s head and pulled, snapping the skull off and taking the gland from the opened brain. It was a deep, swollen purple and the juice it gave him filled the empty vial in his harvester nearly halfway.
Kane seized the corpse and pulled it away, throwing it to the floor behind him. Sue-Eye screamed against the young male’s belly at the retraction, probably aware no better than the other humans of what was happening. He gave her ass a friendly slap as he moved around the bed, and she sobbed around her gag of flesh.
Kane reached up for the young male, hooking him first by the throat and then pulling him down to harvest him. The human yanked back reflexively, popping free of Sue-Eye just as Kane cracked his skull. Blood and cum sprayed Sue-Eye’s face; she swallowed, gagged, and swiped at her eyes, succeeding only in smearing the mixture into a mask.
The male she rode was screaming. Kane bashed in the open mouth and then picked Sue-Eye off him and tossed her behind him. He flipped the fat human over and did his work, loading a fresh vial into the harvester to contain the deluge of dopamine produced by a male in rut. Sue-Eye scrambled back from him and promptly fell off the bed. She landed on the big male, gasped out a whistling scream, and tried to climb away.
Kane swung his foot lazily around and stepped on her back, pressing her flat into the dead man’s chest. He waited, watching her with half an eye as his harvester hummed in his hand. The gland was spent; he ejected it and tucked the tool away. He could feel her shaking through his boot. Finally, it came.
“Thank you, Kane,” she whispered.
“Was it good?” he asked serenely.
She nodded, her whole body shuddering with the fury of her fear.
“Did you cum?”
She nodded again.
“Because you were very good tonight,” he continued, pushing her a little further into the body. “I’d hate to think you didn’t enjoy yourself.” He regarded her shivering efforts not to look at the pool of blood spreading beneath her and the corpse she laid on. “Shall I fuck you now?” he wondered aloud.
Her eyes squeezed shut, but, “Please,” she said.
Kane laughed and removed his boot, allowing her to stand. “Go clean yourself up,” he said. “You weren’t that good tonight. Raven, go get my pack. We’re leaving.”
*
Between the reporters at the crime scene and the briefing back at the precinct, Detective Pete Skarlson didn’t get home until past six in the morning. That was bad. What was worse, there wasn’t even anyone there to be pissed off at him about it. He needed to get a dog.
He unlocked his front door, stepped inside and disarmed the alarm, and then left the door open while he went back out to the car for the groceries he’d stopped for on the way home. He had no intention of going out again today.
His vacation started yesterday, but he’d got the call anyway, and that should have been telling enough. He had what the captain called a “TV face”. They always used him when the public needed extra soothing, so he’d thought he was prepared as he drove to the scene. Yeah. He’d thought he was all kinds of prepared. He wasn’t. But he’d done his thing in front of the cameras and as of now this was officially not his case, and he thanked God for it. He’d never seen anything so awful in his entire life, not even in the war.
He never saw the man who came up behind him. Never heard him, either. The first he knew that he was not alone was when he felt cool metal at his throat and a hiss like air being let out of a tire. There was a sharp pain in his neck, but before he could even think to slap up at it or turn around or do anything at all, his world washed out into a pleasant field of pastels.
He let the bag of junk food and beer drift down from his arms as he gradually relaxed them, and watched as a muscular arm reached around him and a strange hand caught it. How thoughtful. Another hand pushed lightly at his back, propelling him into his living room, and he went along with it, smiling dreamily. Everything was so nice.
“Is that what I looked like when you did that to me?” a woman asked.
“No,” a deep voice replied. “You tried to fall down.”
‘What a good idea,’ Pete thought, and fell down. The carpet was so soft.
Someone rolled him over. It took a few seconds for Pete to realize his eyes were open and he did not find the lack of thought particularly disturbing. But he should, he thought vaguely as he stared up at his living room ceiling. He should be very disturbed.
A woman sat down on the carpet beside him, her attention aimed up at the dark shape of someone else moving behind him. She was a beautiful woman. He didn’t think he knew her, but he decided he sure would like to.
“Hi,” he said.
The beautiful woman looked directly at him, beautiful only from the right side. Straight on, a fine mesh of old scars robbed her of her symmetry, but Pete decided he wasn’t too picky about that. Parts of her were still attractive. He considered carefully how best to vocalize this.
“Nice boobs,” he said seriously.
The woman looked up again and this time, Pete followed her gaze. There was a large man in a strange, black uniform coming back from the kitchen where he had just thoughtfully carried Pete’s groceries. The man was looking intently down at him and his eyes were the yellow of a cat’s.
“Hi,” said Pete.
“This is different. You did not speak unless I urged you to do so,” the man remarked. He pulled a narrow object, like a pen, from his belt and glared at it. His expression was sour, disgusted. “I am beginning to think this mixture needs reformulating.”
“Gosh, think so?” the woman asked wryly. “Believe me, it’s no fun on the other end, either.”
“I need to throw up,” Pete announced, and did.
“No fun at all,” the woman repeated, and rolled Pete onto his side.
“You did not do this until much later.”
“He’s bigger than I am. You know how it is. The bigger you are, the more the drugs have to spread out.”