Mars Needs Blood

"Fuck off and forget," A voice had shouted in Maelle's mind.

The blonde's jaw locked back on her victim's neck who resumed her moaning with greater intensity. Maelle had gone back to her own compartment and fallen asleep. In the morning she had been awakened by a train inspector indicating her she had arrived in Brest. As she had met her parents on the platform she realized that she had completely forgotten the previous night's events.

In her next dream, she was back in her native town. She was in a bar located in a farm outside Saint Eloy. All her friends where there and she was celebrating her eighteenth birthday. She was really happy, really drunk and really high. Her boyfriend had left early. By the end of the evening as she was planning to walk back to her parents' home three kilometers away she had met the look of a girl she didn't knew.

She had never been attracted by a girl. With the deficit of men due to the War, the female homosexuality had become commonplace, nonetheless Maelle hadn't fallen to this trend; she was one hundred percent heterosexual and proud of it. But as her eyes had met the other girl's, she had felt instantly aroused.

She had followed her into the forest outside the barn and there she had experienced the most erotic experience of her life. As the strange girl ravaged her with her fingers and fangs Maelle had drowned in an ocean of pleasure. After an hour of intense lesbian love, the girl had told her to go home and forget. She had tumbled back to her home and to her bed where she had been sick for three weeks with no recollection, until now, of the events of the end of her eighteenth birthday night.

A wave of memories had then overcome her as she had noticed for the first time the many scars left by the bites of the girl.

The last dream had taken place earlier that night feeling the gap between Rue de Turenne and the small alley near boulevard Richard Lenoir. The North African girl had taken her to one of the many gay bars of the area. Sitting in a dark corner, she had offered Maelle a beer and had told her story. Her name was Asma; she was one third of the triumvirate ruling over the Great and Bountiful Caliphate and had come to Paris to meet with the UEPAS authorities to finalize a treaty between her country and theirs.

She had left the hotel for a quick snack and had met Maelle after meeting with a friend of hers. She had decided to have her because she had liked her attitude. As she was talking to Maelle, Asma had slipped a finger into the Breton's pussy pleasuring her time and time again. Eventually after finishing her story the North African girl had bitten Maelle's neck, sucking her blood and intensifying her orgasms. Nobody had noticed of them.

Maelle woke up as the morning light was coming from the window. Her sister was sitting by her side on the small table by the sofa. She handed her a cup of hot coffee. She looked older, graver and more serious than she had ever been in Maelle's memories.

"So now you remember." Nolwen said "All the dreams you just had are in fact memories unlocked by the plant infusion I poured in your coffee yesterday. I am sure that you have a lot of questions but if you let me talk it will be easier for you to understand." She paused hugging her sister and gently caressing her hair.

"Four years ago planet Earth was invaded. I am part of a resistance movement that are trying to free the human race from the Amazons' influence and we need your help..."

***

OCTOBER 9th 2049, Seattle, Panamerican States, Earth

Amy held her breath as the guard passed her hiding place. She pointed her gun towards the back of his head. Thum. Thum. Two shots, he dropped to the ground. She dragged the body in a cupboard. Her target was supposed to be two floors up. Amy Matisse, hit man or hit woman if you prefer, moved along the hallway towards the stairs.

Becoming a contract killer is question of intelligence and luck and Amy was both. Actually she was absolutely brilliant and bloody lucky, literally. The first person she had permanently retired from life was her mother. She had always despised her progenitor. The bitch was the worst kind of human you can come around, she was mean, greedy and stupid. Amy's mother was also a hardened alcoholic who took out on her daughter her own failures. After a heated argument Amy had pushed her out of a window. The police hadn't even considered murder; it was a casual domestic accident. Amy, to her own amazement, did not feel a hint of remorse. The inheritance money had been a nice extra. She was eighteen at the time and had enjoyed it as long as it lasted.

Her second kill had been a lover that she had found in bed with a friend of hers. Obviously the third kill had been the friend in question. The excuse of the domestic accident being a hard sell to the authorities she had had burned down the house. Once again she had walked free only this time without a dime in her pocket. Still not feeling remorse she had looked for a job. It hadn't worked as planned. After getting rid of her boss' corpse she had been contacted by a mobster who had followed her career and had offered her a permanent job as a paid assassin for the Italian mafia.

Her brains and good star had made her an ace in her field. But she soon grew bored of the endless string of blunt executions. After taking out the entire Denaro Family she had retired with a huge bank account in Switzerland, a stronger knowledge of her trade and a few nice memories of her trip to Sicily.

The War had started on the night of her 27th birthday. The Mafia had left her alone having more pressing matters to attend to. During those troubled times she had worked for all sides taking out generals, admirals and warlords by the dozen. On herself she had altered the course of the war at least six times. As the dust settled, she had moved on to more interesting targets, heads of state, CEOs, sect leader, people with a more interesting security detail and lots of enemies ready to pay fortunes for the services of the hit woman.

Amy didn't consider herself a serial killer, as she didn't feel any urge or sexual inclination towards domination and murder. She wasn't a psychopath with impulsions, needs; she was merely a sociopath, unable to feel guilt in the act of killing. If anything she actually was addicted to the thrill of the hunt not the kill itself. It just came naturally to her and it was a nice way of increasing the pile of money she had already made. She was the best in her line of work and her line of work wasn't that nice.

One of her usual contacts had offered her the job she was on. The old man she had met while working for the mafia had given her little details but the pay was non negligible and the unusual location of the target had triggered her interest. She was supposed to take out the head of the Seattle branch of the Woman's Nation, Ms Andrea Cordon.

The Woman's Nation was some sort of cult that had appeared in the wake of the arrival of the Amazons. Nobody knew much about the goals of the group but it had grown global in a question of months and many rumors had spread around it as many powerful and influential women joined every day. She had tried to investigate but had been confronted to a wall the likes of which she had never encountered. No interesting information was available to the public; the hyperweb didn't carry anything relevant.

The only way of getting any inside knowledge was to actually join the group and the only way to do so was to be invited. As she activated high-ranking contacts made during the War her curiosity had grown exponentially. Eventually she had met with a CIA vice director that had confessed her that even the feared agency had actually not been able to infiltrate the ranks of the Nation. But she couldn't pull out from the job; both her reputation and her curiosity denied her of that option. She had gone in almost blind with only a few pre war maps of the place and her usual tools.

Amy reached the last floor of the building, according to her contact's Intel, the residence of her target. She silently penetrated a large room, her vision was almost accustomed to the darkness as there had been no light in the last two flights of stairs. She discerned the outline of a woman sitting on a large armchair.

"Come in, Miss Matisse, we have been waiting for you," a familiar voice said.

Blinded by the sudden light that inundated the room, Amy took out her gun and fired three times at the voice. Two in the head, one in the chest. By the time her eyes were accustomed to the light she realized where she had heard the voice in question. She froze. She had just shot the most powerful person on the planet. She had just killed Chairman President Farnsworth.

The old woman's corpse collapsed on the chair and for the first time in her life, Amy panicked on a job. This shouldn't have happened, she wasn't prepared for the consequences, had she known she would have secured her bank accounts, prepared a solid new identity and erased all traces of herself. But for this "Ms Andrea Cordon" she had only taken basic precautions. She was in a world of trouble. A slight movement coming from the body attracted her attention.

Chairman President Farnsworth raised her head smiling. Her wounds were closing. The two women's eyes crossed for a second. Amy's blood froze in her veins.

"Now, now, Miss Matisse, that's no way to behave yourself. Please have a seat, we have an offer for you and, although it might sound as a cliché, I'm pretty sure you cannot afford to refuse it."

Professor Farnsworth eyes glowed with a dark red light, her ears and canines had grown. She looked like an Amazon; she looked as beautiful as an Amazon Amy corrected herself. She was entranced; although she wanted to turn around and run, she couldn't move a muscle.

"Now sit!" Professor Farnsworth spat indicating a chair. Amy complied.

"We have been following your work Miss Matisse and I must say that our Queen Aegea is really fond of it. She is in dire need of an enforcer, a protector, a messenger of death for her enemies, someone that will do her biding by day when we cannot. Does the name Renfield mean anything to you Miss Matisse?"

***

APRIL 17th 2049, Vladivostok-Pyong Yang-Seoul Conurb, Transiberian Confederation, Earth

Olesya Yvanovna had been born in the Moscow suburbs just after the invasion of the Great Eastern Horde. In a headlong rush, she had little memory of her childhood during the darkest days of the War, but her teens had seen the Cultural Revolution that had followed. She had become obsessed with novelty, innovation. A new band launching its first album, a new actor or actress staring in the latest blockbuster, she would instantly become the number one fan.

But she was inconsistent, oblivious to her previous obsessions as soon as something new would burst into the light of the media. She would run away from home as soon as a band she loved came through Moscow following them for days until something new and shiny caught her attention. She sneaked into the five star hotels to be able to meet her idols, she seduced countless bouncer to access the back stages of her promised lands.

As she grew older this obsession for renewal had slowly faded away, but then the MARS ONE expedition had reported back and she had found her holy grail. The one thing that she would never get tired of, the novelty that could keep her fascinated for eternity, Aliens, a peaceful race of creatures that would satisfy her thirst for amazement. The fact that they looked so feral and that they were a matriarchal society was a bonus she could only love.

Olesya worked in a small music store in the Vladivostok district of the conurbation that covered the former two Koreas, a good chunk of northeastern China and reached as far as the Gobi Desert to the west. Her feverish passion reborn, she had read everything she could, watched all the vids, listened to all the newscasts she could lay a hand on concerning the Amazons. She had been the most fervent fan; she was now the absolute groupie. When the Amazon world tour dates had been announced mid January, she had been the very first person to buy tickets for the Dynamo stadium appearance of the Amazons. It had fulfilled her and she was ready to go miles ahead with her new passion.

She had moved heaven and Earth to get the backstage ticket she was holding. The bouncer looked at the tickets and opened the red velvet chain blocking the way to the VIP section. One thousand fifty six days, she had waited for this moment. She was handed a glass of champagne. A beautiful Mongolian girl approached her.

"Sem Benou," she said in the official language of the confederation.

She switched to Russian.

"You are here to meet our glorious visitors; you have to understand a few things first. The Amazons are alien so you might not be able to grasp all the subtleties of their reactions. Please don't take offense to their actions, don't forget they come in peace and show them the respect they deserve. This being said, please enjoy yourself. Please help yourself to whatever you need, it's open bar."

Olesya bowed down and moved on. She entered a small room with a table. On the table she found a large assortment of the most expensive alcohols and drugs, a young man wearing a black shirt and tie was standing behind it. He seemed absent and tired. As he poured her drink she noticed a bleeding wound on his wrist.

"Are you alright?" She asked. "It's a nasty cut you got there."

Shameful, he covered it with his hand.

"Sorry madam," he said, "it won't happen again."

Not really satisfied with the answer she helped herself to a couple of lines of coke. The rush was almost instantaneous. Picking up the last flakes on the mirror and rubbing her teeth with them she moved along passing the curtain covering the door to the next room. The drug was really good; she felt the warmth and power of the opiate filing her mind.

The next room was a lot larger, huge silk draperies of multiple colors falling from the ceiling divided it in small alcoves. She lifted the one to the left. One of the beautiful creatures she had been longing for was resting on a pile of cushions. Aglaonike her name was, she remembered from her interviews. She was a scientist in their society and a brilliant one. For a long while she stayed there staring at the beautiful sleeping creature. A faint noise at the otherworldly creature's feet attracted her attention; it was a naked Chinese girl sleeping. She didn't want to bother them so she walked back into the entrance of the large room.

Her senses enhanced by the drug, she now could perceive many sights and murmurs. She lifted the next curtain. Sophie Pelletier, the first human having met the Amazons was also laying on a pile of cushions. She was passionately kissing the breast of another small Chinese girl.

"I'm so fucking tired of this Asian food, where can I get an apple pie bred blonde?"

The famous cursing mouth of Captain Sarah Fry made her jump; it came from the draperies behind Major Pelletier. The French astronaut lifted her head from between the small breasts of the Chinese girl, a reddish fluid covering her mouth and neck flowing down her blouse. She turned to Olesya, grinning.

"Hey captain," she said, "I have here a nice Caucasian girl ready to answer your prayers. What is your name, ma petite?"

"Olesya" Olesya answered in a strong voice.

She felt both ashamed and invigorated by the question. Being addressed so candidly by such an important person made her proud. The drug had probably something to do with her attitude.

"You look delicious but I won't deny my ranking officer the pleasure of your flesh. She has been complaining about the food since we have left the UK. Get rid of your clothes and go through there," she said indicating the drapery from where the voice had come.

She buried her head again in the Chinese girl's breast.

Although it wasn't the first time she had been backstage and she had seen many orgies she hadn't expected this here. Nonetheless some strange impulsion told her it was appropriate and so Olesya removed her top, bra and skirt keeping only her panties, she moved on. The next alcove was occupied by yet another Amazon vigorously masturbating. Her sumptuous breasts raised and lowered in sync with the orgasm that seemed to overcome her. She opened her eyes and looked at Olesya.

The Alien licked her lips and fangs. Olesya and fell to her knees and crawled between the legs of the creature, she started kissing the hand, sucking on the first phalanx of the finger buried in the Amazon's pussy. The creature shivered, with her other hand she pressed Olesya's face against her groin.

"So there you are you little shit. I've been looking for you..." Sarah Fry strong voice said behind her.

The two hands of the Amazon now on her head, Olesya was unable to look back, not that she really wanted to. She was so aroused; she could feel the Amazon's orgasms through her numbed tongue. Her head was tilted to a side and a mouth covered the base of her neck...

***