Lost Bloodlines Ch. 02

I looked up from my introspection and handed back her badge. Again I noticed her eyes trailing down my body and suddenly I felt very exposed. "I imagine I have a lot of catching up to do then. Don't worry about the misunderstanding," I looked down at the circle of spent lead surrounding me. "It seems I'm no worse for the wear. Is there somewhere more private we could go? Somewhere I can get some clothes?" She nodded, then turned to stride down the hall, brushing past the line of soldiers without a word. I meekly followed, feeling the leering eyes of the soldiers as I passed. I would have thought the dick swinging between my legs would have put off the obvious lechery, but these men didn't seem to care, and I felt their stares on my ass as I followed the agent.

She eventually turned to an office after ascending a flight of stairs, gesturing for me to enter while starting to dial something into her phone. I sat down at in the free chair in what looked like a medical supervisor's office, degrees on the wall and everything. After waiting for a few minutes, Agent Riley entered with a medical gown folded in her arms. "You couldn't find a shirt and some jeans?" I asked with some resignation.

She gave me a skeptical look and then gestured to the massive wings that were currently at rest close to my body. "There happened to be a shortage of shirts built for winged humanoids in the office, you'll have to make do with a backless gown for now."

I blushed in understanding and stood to shrug on the gown. My ass was still hanging out, but at least my front was covered. I meant covered in the loosest possible sense, as my large breasts and apparently permanently erect nipples were painfully visible through the thin gown, something Agent Riley appeared to make note of with a hint of a smirk.

"So, Mr. Finch, before I answer your earlier question, I'd like you to tell me everything you remember before you fell unconscious on October 10^th." Riley pulled out a notepad from somewhere on her person and clicked a pen as she leaned against the front of the desk, scant feet away from where I sat.

Leaning back in my seat, I recounted everything I could remember from when I woke up that morning until my seizure at the diner. Agent Riley jotted down notes throughout, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or make an offhand comment. I really wasn't sure what to make of the woman. She had all the hallmarks of a professional, yet her constant leering and unwarranted familiarity caught me off guard, and I remained somewhat nervous as I finished my story.

As I trailed off, she finished a note and considered me for a second, before sighing. "That was remarkably unhelpful, Mr. Finch. No matter, I can't say I really expected anything more." She did look distinctly disappointed in my lack of answers towards whatever caused my current state, but she swiftly moved on. "In any case, the scene you described in the diner was not an isolated incident. Starting at around 2pm AST, people across the world began to have seizures much like your own, causing panic and confusion across the globe. Following the seizure and unconsciousness, those affected began to transform into outlandish new forms. Reports of seizures and mutations continued to pour in until they all stopped at 12am that day. We as of yet have no ideas why or how, but on October 10^th, roughly ten percent of the world's population underwent violent transformation into monsters of myth and legends from every culture across the globe. Dragons, fairies, cat-people, giants, werewolves, Chupacabras, and even," she gestured to me, "biblical demons and angels. You've been out for three days since then, and we've had no more reports of mutations since then, but just about every country on earth is on total lockdown and under martial law until this mess can be figured out."

I took a moment to process this, and caught an odd word choice. "Since I was 'out'? What happened to me?"

"You were dead, Mr. Finch. You died on the floor of the diner after paramedics were called. Your body was taken here for examination. You weren't the only one, you know. It seems about half of those who underwent the transformation died in the process. You're just the only one to come back afterward." Her eyes flashed over me in frank appraisal. "Jury's still out if you're the lucky one or not. Others simply went mad when they woke up, going on a rampage until the National Guard was called in and put them down." Riley grimaced. "A hell of a lot of people have died in the last few days Mr. Finch. A turned dragon leveled a city in China before the CCP nuked what remained to contain the threat. So, you see why my men were more than a little trigger happy when you suddenly woke from the dead."

I nodded absentmindedly. The potential loss of life was staggering, and the social and political ramifications were immense, but I really only had one thought on my mind. "My girlfriend, Faith Roberts. Do you know what happened to her after I was..." I gulped, "after I died?" Finally, I saw something approaching sympathy on the alternatively stoic and pervy agent's face.

She nodded. "She was notified as soon as you woke up, as she's listed as your emergency contact, though we weren't sure what state you'd be in. From what I was told, she was ecstatic to hear about your miraculous return, and we managed to get her onboard a military transport heading this way. By my reckoning, she should be here by the end of the day."

I felt myself sag into my chair in relief. Faith. She had been my rock for years now, and I was feeling terribly adrift and lost at the moment. It'll be alright when she gets here. We'll figure it out together, no matter what. I believed it with all my heart. At this point, it was the only thing left in my life that I felt I could believe in.

"We'd like to keep you here until we get a better handle on the situation. We have some barracks set up for a number of particularly unusual transformed individuals that we have been studying in the city. There are a number of tests that we'd like to run on you, non-invasive of course. Until we can get some real answers, we've been confining those turned from the public eye. We can't have monsters freely roaming the streets right now, it would only make this whole situation worse."

I nodded my agreement, recognizing the offer for what it was. The transformed were dangerous and unknown, and the masses have a tendency to react poorly to either, and homicidally to both. We were about to become prisoners in our own country, but I admitted the necessity of the situation for now. Incarceration might be confining, but it also protected us from the hordes inevitably waiting to hunt down the demons in their midst. And besides, I thought with no small amount of dark humor, if this turns to something more sinister, I'm apparently more than strong enough to break out on my own and fly away. There were some perks to becoming a monster.

Something wasn't adding up, however. "If the entire country is in lockdown and you're trying to hide us away, why would you go to the trouble of flying Faith all the way out here? Given everything you said has happened...why aren't we being sent to some black-site that doesn't officially exist? Why the accommodation?"

Riley examined me appraisingly before answering. "If I may be frank, Mr. Finch, there are more than a few members of my agency that wanted exactly that. In the first round-up of turned individuals on Day 0, more than a few were sent to such places. Only, when they were notified that they would be unable to see their family members or significant others, there were...incidents. Very violent and costly incidents. Since then, we've decided to try to take a more even-handed approach. In the camp here alone, from what we've managed to put together, there are easily dozen individuals that could likely resist any armed response we could put together outside of cruise missiles. Your full cooperation in your time here is much preferable to the alternative."

Well, at least she was being honest about the preferential treatment. I had a sneaking suspicion that I had just been put on a relevant list of threats somewhere after the incident in the morgue. I was suddenly struck by a vivid mental image.

My demonic red form was surrounded on all sides by soldiers, tanks, and artillery, shrugging off the barrage of fire and screaming my defiance as I hurtled forward on fiery wings to begin the slaughter. Soldiers fell by the score as I slashed with talons and sent out roiling hellfire to consume them. Men screamed as they were set alight, others fell to their knees and prayed for mercy. They were but a nuisance to me, and soon they would learn their place beneath my heel. I would crush my enemies, see them driven before me, and to hear the lamentation of their women, women I would take for my own. For I am perfecti...

I jerked out of the vision and shook my head. The visceral power of the crimson sea was back, raging in my mind. I pushed it down, forced the heat in my blood to go back to whence it came. This was ridiculous, this wanton thirst for violence and power wasn't me, and yet...I felt some sort of deep satisfaction as I recalled the image. Something inside was pushing me to seek it out, make it a reality. Just hold it together, Charles, once Faith gets here we'll figure it out. She'll know how to fix me.

Shaking myself from that dark place, I noticed that Agent Riley had been watching my internal struggle, her placating grin slowly shifted into something predatory that I wasn't sure I was entirely comfortable with. She pushed herself from her perch on the desk and, to my shock, suddenly sat down crossways on my lap. I felt trapped and uncertain as she leaned close, her hands running up my sides and teasing the outside of my breasts through the thin gown. She whispered in my ear, "There are some other tests that I'd personally like to administer, Mr. Finch." She pressed her nose into my neck and breathed in, shuddering as she did so. I felt myself involuntarily stiffen beneath her firm ass, and she ground herself into me, her hands fully grasping at my tits, softly squeezing them. I arched my back as I felt incredible pleasure radiate from my chest like nothing I ever felt before, but my mind was confused and affronted by what was happening. It was too much, too soon in this new body, and most certainly not with the person I should have been with.

I quietly said, "No," but my refusal seemed to only spur Riley on, and her hands grasped the edges of the gown around my back and tore, exposing my upper body to her lustful gaze. Her eyes locked on to the revealed bounty of my breasts, and she dived in, seizing a nipple in her mouth and sucking. I had to shut my eyes and moan at the unexpected pleasure. My hand came to rest on the back of her head, and pressed her harder into me, demanding more from the rabid agent. But inside I still felt wrong, deeply violated as I never had before, and with a shuddering breath I pulled Agent Riley back by her hair, pushing her off of me as I stood. She fell back against the desk and looked as me with glazed eyes and a lustful smile.

"Harder," she moaned as she lunged back at me. This time I was ready for her advance, and I caught her shoulders before she could get any closer. Making sure my talons were retracted, I wound back and slapped her hard across the face, though trying to hold back from actually hurting the woman. The slap seemed to finally shock Agent Riley back to her senses, and she put a hand up to her rapidly reddening face as she stared at me open-mouthed.

"Oh my god," she managed to get out, before the other half of her face reddened in shame and embarrassment. The woman was horrified as she looked down at my torn gown and realized what she had just tried to do. "I am so sorry Mr. Finch, I have no idea what came over me. Please if there is anything I can do to..." I stopped her frantic apology with a raised hand. I slowly gathered up the ruined halves of my gown had held them up to my chest. I looked up at the frazzled woman and sighed.

"I'm going to ask someone to find me a room and some better clothes. Please send Faith to me when she arrives. I'll find my way to the barracks after. Stay away from me, and I won't mention what just happened to anyone." Despite the tough act I was trying to put on, I felt tears brimming in my eyes, and I quickly rushed out of the room to make good on my words. I just needed Faith to get here. When Faith is here everything would be alright. Everything would go back to normal.

It had to.

-00000-

After shocking some poor secretary half to death, I managed to browbeat my way into getting a different office to stay in until Faith arrived, and convince her to rummage up some spare clothes from other female employees. I started to feel rather bad about the threatening tone I took with the girl as I carefully ripped open two large gaps in the back of her spare t-shirt. I had managed to finally get a pair of jeans (poking a hole in the waist for my tail), but no luck on the underwear, so it looked like I was going commando for the moment. It took some awkward tugging and to my shame I fell over at one point, but I finally managed to get on the shirt through the inconvenience of having wings.

It had been a few hours since my encounter with Agent Riley, and I had tried to take that time to calm myself down. Looking back now, all the leering from the soldiers and the assault from Riley felt more confusing than anything else. While I hadn't exactly been ugly before, I wasn't the kind of guy that earned appreciative looks in public, so this kind of attention just felt so out of place. I looked at the office window, searching my vague reflection. I had a bad feeling that this kind of attention was something I was going to have to rapidly get used it. If I could mentally block out the horns and the red skin, this new body was absolutely stunning. My face had clear, flawless skin and well-defined features, with a vague heart shape and prominent cheekbones that made me look some kind of European supermodel. My eyes were large and soulful, black with crimson irises. My hair was pitch black and hung in thick locks around my face, reaching just past my shoulders. I had already acknowledged the traffic-stopping status of my curves, but seeing the full image for the first time was terribly disorienting, and I felt more out of place in this body than ever.

In contrast to the clamor of the start of my day, things around the CDC almost seemed boring. Some agent had briefly checked in to let me know that my spot in the barracks had been arranged, and that I just had ask my guard to take me there. Yes, I apparently warranted a guard while I made a nuisance of myself in the CDC offices away from the other monsters they had penned up. Last I checked he was standing outside my door, armed and armored like the soldiers from earlier. I wonder if he knew his presence was decorative.

Looking out onto the street outside, for a world gone mad it was quiet. Almost no one was out on the streets and few cars passed by the CDC complex. I don't know why I expected it to look like a scene from Mad Max, but I expected the end of the world to be louder. 10% of the world population was roughly 770 million, fully half of which died in the transformation and apparently others went mad. I can only imagine the carnage I could have wrought if I had been the same. Normal humans must have died by the thousands, if not millions. And yet it was quiet.

Quiet enough that I heard something of a commotion in the hall. Raised voices echoed down into the office, too muted for me to make out what was being said. I opened the doorway to get a better idea only to hear a desperate, "Get the hell out of my way! They told me he was in this wing!" I felt a broad smile break out on my face. I knew that voice anywhere. Faith must have forced her way through the bureaucracy of actually getting to me in her haste. I rushed out into the hall, leaving behind a shouted, "Hey!" from my armed babysitter. He would just have to catch up. I turned around the corner, and there she was, dressed in rumpled clothes and looking slightly manic as she argued with two men in lab coats blocking her way.

"I don't give a shit if I have to sign in and wait! You fuckers told me he was dead, so you better take me to him right now!" For a good Christian girl Faith could have quite the foul mouth if pressed. Despite how amusing it would be to watch her rip these two a new asshole, I decided to put her out of her misery.

"Faith, calm down," I called, as I walked up behind the two doctors. "You've already found me." Her angry gaze locked onto my smiling face, and I felt something inside me break as her face twisted into disgust. Her eyes darted down my body and took in the horns, wings, skin, tail, and the braless chest that was truly straining the fabric of the borrowed shirt.

"Get out of my way, you demonic slut," she snorted derisively, before shoving her way past me. As she walked past my guard she commented, "I can't believe you let these abominations walk around free. Shouldn't they be chained up or something?" I watched in shocked silence as she began opening each office door down the hall, still calling my name. I had to stop this, I had to make her understand what had happened. She was just confused, that had to be it.

I chased after her, and caught her by the arm and stopped her relentless motion forward. Behind me I thought I heard a safety click off from my guard's direction. Jumpy bastards. I pulled her around to face me and grabbed her other arm. "Faith, listen to me. This is me. I transformed too. It's Charles. You don't need to keep looking anymore!" I tried to lower the tone of my feminine new voice, anything to make her recognize me.

She struggled against my hands for a moment. "Get off of me, bitch! I have to find him," she cried out, but I shook her again until she looked up into my eyes. She saw something there that stopped her cold. I tried to give her my best reassuring smile, despite the anxiety that was beginning to rise up in my chest.

"It's me, baby. It's Charles. Your name is Faith Roberts. Your favorite color is yellow. You had two dogs growing up, and an annoying little brother that you secretly love more than anything in this world. You thrash in your sleep, and I have woken up more times than I can count from your hand smacking me in the face in the middle of the night. You told me you want exactly three children, two girls and a boy. You found the engagement ring I bought for you two years ago even when I hid it inside a box of condoms. You cried for a week and carry it everywhere you go, even if you couldn't say yes. It's me, Faith, it's really me."

She looked at me in silence, tears starting to run down her face as she listened to my desperate words. A hand rose to her neck where I knew she wore the ring on a chain.

Finally, her hand reached up to touch my face. "Charles?" she whispered. Hope finally blossomed within me again, and I leaned into her touch. As soon as her hand pressed against my crimson skin, however, she jerked back, and the acceptance I saw building in her eyes turned into something terrible.

"You're a monster," she whimpered. "You've been touched by Satan, and you'll corrupt everything around you." She took a step back, and I saw she was terrified. Her eyes darted to my horns and locked there as she trembled. "Daddy was right. The mutants are all hell-spawn, abominations in the light of God. Charles is dead. I saw him die. You're a pretender! You killed him!" Her voice had gradually risen in volume until she was screaming at me. Spittle flew from her mouth at every word as a zealous fervor seized the woman I loved more than anything.