Mummified Remains Ch. 06

"Miranda!"

"Lucy!"

The girls ran to each other. It seemed like a perfect rescue. A moment of surefire friendship. Then Lucy tempted fate.

"I'm in love with you, Miranda!"

Before Miranda even had a chance to respond, Lucy went in for the kiss. It was a wet, sloppy, passionate kiss from a girl who had only ever kissed before in her dreams. Miranda went as stiff as a statue, but at first, Lucy didn't notice. She clumsily pressed her lips against Miranda's mouth, relishing the sweet taste. It wasn't until Miranda suddenly broke the kiss that Lucy realized she had made a huge mistake.

"What are you doing?" Miranda said, looking shell shocked.

"I…you…oh God."

Lucy began to back away, her joy replaced with pure horror. She realized now that she had chosen the worst possible moment to reveal her intentions. Miranda just stared at her slack jaw.

The pair had no time to stew on this revelation. Tyler's entrance to the situation had triggered a horrible reversion in Beverly. Her face contorted in rage and her brown eyes filled with flames.

"Why is he here?" She screamed.

"I don't know!" Noora glanced back furiously at her fiance only to meet his glance and feel a fresh wave of guilt. "This isn't what I wanted."

"You're lying! You didn't come here to love me. You were tricking me!"

"No, that isn't true."

Tyler chimed in, suddenly.

"I want to know why you were making out with this freak!"

"Perhaps it's because her fiance cannot satisfy her! You never deserved her!" As the rage overtook Beverly, her features grew more and more demonic. Her teeth turned to fangs, her fingernails to claws, and horns began to sprout from her skull. "You don't deserve her, but you have her. It's not fair! But that's all about to change. If I can't make you love me, Noora. I can make you fuck me!"

Beverly grabbed her throbbing demon cock like it was a loaded gun and stroked it to attention. A dribble of onyx fluid leaked from the tip. The fluid steamed and bubbled where it touched the ground, turning the grass black.

"Once you fall, I'll take Miranda and burn this planet to the ground! Your betrayal has damned all of humanity!"

Beverly charged at Noora, who whipped out the book and screamed and screamed something unintelligible. Immediately, a sphere of white light formed around Noora, blocking Bev's attack.

"Not this time Bev. I'm not some poor innocent college girl for you to rape. This ends now!"

Beverly cackled, "You think you're the only one with magic, Noora? Try this on for size!"

Beverly waved her burly arms and uttered something in an arcane demonic language. Immediately, tendrils of shadow emerged from her hands to assault the glowing orb of protection.

The others watched in shock and horror as white magic met black. The entire park crackled with horrible potential as if a summer storm was about to hit.

"Lucy, get back here!" Miranda cried. "It's not safe."

Lucy stared back at Miranda with a look of shell shock. Miranda hated herself for how she reacted. She had no idea what to think of Lucy's kiss. Now wasn't the time to figure out these kinds of things. If only she could get Lucy to realize that. They needed to flee.

"Lucy, come here!"

Lucy shook her head.

"You were never going to say yes. Who am I kidding?"

The colliding magics in the air sizzled and cracked. Noora pushed back against her attacker with all her might, but she lacked the hideous finesse of her opponent. Beverly was more than just a freakishly mutated human professor. She carried with her the knowledge of the beast that came before her. With each passing moment, the demon's nature seeped deeper into her being. She moved with predatory grace, conjuring shadows from the pits of hell. The fight was lopsided and messy. Noora held on, but how much longer would she last? Miranda could plainly see that something horrible was about to happen.

"Lucy, snap out of it!"

Insead, Lucy turned inward. Her sweet little doll face contorted into a mirthless grin. Her tinkly little laughter danced across the park. It was an elegiac peel of bells playing over the sounds of war and nightmares.

"I'm such an idiot. You're going to hate me now. I ruined everything! I'm so good at this! Everything I touch turns to shit! It's almost funny! It's really funny!"

"Can we talk about this later?" Miranda begged.

"Of course, Miranda! When would be a good time? Your wedding day, maybe?" The manic false joy toppled like a rotting tree, revealing the festering misery underneath. "Oh God, I've lost you forever. Forever and ever and ever!"

"Goddamnit, Lucy, get over he–"

There was a flash and the sound of thunder. Reality seemed to turn inside out as white magic canceled out black. Reality broke down as Miranda, Lucy, and everyone else were deconstructed. Senses became swapped in freakish mixups. Miranda screamed, but instead of sound coming out of her mouth, a flock of tweeting songbirds fluttered out. She tasted the bright, flickering lights. They were spicy and acidic, burning a tongue that was now made of soundwaves.

Through the ever shifting muck, Miranda felt, rather than saw Lucy. The girl passed Miranda by, taking the form of a series of forlorn memories. Miranda saw her own life over the past few months reflected back at her at odd angles. She traced the unique shape of her lips with affection and desire. She shivered watching herself toss her short brown hair back. Her mind picked up on a hundred little things she did that she never noticed. She had a special way of fidgeting with her glasses. She smelled like a very specific mixture of coconut and peaches. For one agonizing moment, Miranda fell head over heels in love with herself.

Then Lucy was gone, leaving a hole in Miranda's heart. Darkness flooded into the cavity, blotting out the light. Miranda tried to hold on. She tried to remember the love. Such sweet, frantic love. A pure heart that just wanted to be seen. This had not been bad. Who was she kidding? The kiss was delicious. Lucy's lips were so much softer and sweeter than a boy's. Miranda wanted to find Lucy. It was the least she could do. Those darling memories needed to resolve in a happy ending. The wind howled, the world twisted as if it had become a carnival ride, and all senses converged in one hideous, screeching moment.

Darkness. All good things must end, but sorrow persists.

***

The book was very old. To call it ancient was something of an understatement. It had existed since before there were books, or scrolls, or carved tablets of clay. There was a time in human history, lost to written record, buried in the millenia before men domesticated the earth, and in turn became domesticated.

In murky depths of antiquity, when the height of humanity's technical achievements was a sharpened stick, it had been born. It started as a collection of ideas birthed from the wrinkly gray matter of neanderthals and cro magnons and was given power by centuries of psychic toil and transformation. It passed from mind to mind over the generations as stories and rituals, as clumsy syllables and loose verbiage. When the first man slapped charcoal and clay to the wall of a cave, it had seeped into the rock. There, it became anchored, giving strength and purpose.

Later, much later, in the time when men began to cast seeds into soil and put whips to great pack animals, it evolved. The ideas in the minds of men deepened. For the first time in Earth's long history, life began to ponder its own existence. Eyes gazed up at the moon and stars and wondered if there was something greater. The book (at that time it was a clay tablet) lifted up into the heavens alongside the dreams of mankind. There was power in the stars, a great fountain of light, and the book drank deeply. Its powers grew.

The book took many forms and saw many owners throughout the years. It learned from each new holder. At one time, it was merely a collection of ideas imbued with power, but as the millenia passed, it developed into something more. It developed an affinity for its creators. Although it surpassed each individual human in age and knowledge, it remained in awe of the new quirks and discoveries its mother species discovered. While it recognized the severe limits of each individual human, it saw the perfect of the species as a whole. It began to think, to feel, and to dream.

Soon, the book began to feel something akin to love. Its muse was humanity. It loved her dearly and desired to experience more than use and ownership. It certainly enjoyed the gentle caress of human fingers on its smooth surfaces. It giggled silently as eyes tickled its words and phrases. It enjoyed all these things, but it wanted more. As each new master used the book for fame, or fortune, or, best of all, knowledge, the book in turn gathered knowledge for its goal. No longer was it content to be a tool of humanity. It desired a closer relationship.

Noora Abadi lay unconscious on the soft earth, her chest rising in short, ragged breaths. Her pretty face was smeared in mud, and a nasty cut stained her right temple red, but she was otherwise alright. In her left hand, she held the book.

The little black book slithered out of Noora's grasp of its own volition. The spell it used to save Noora and the rest had taken a grave toll on it, and each little movement cost it precious energy, but it needed to be open for what came next.

Once out of Noora's clutches, the book fluttered open, its blank pages filling with arcane symbols etched in a font too small for human eyes to read. Magical energy swirled around the pair. So far, the book had merely wet its toes when it came to infusing a human with its powers. This would be different.

A soft blue glow filled the air above the book and the air hummed with power. Noora stirred in her sleep, but did not wake. The book was glad for this. It did not think the human would approve of what it was about to do, but it had no other choice. Never before had such an opportunity presented itself, and it was not going to allow the moment to slip through its fingers.

The ball of light above the book flared as a cloud of black symbols lifted off the pages flew into the air like a cloud of gnats. The symbols buzzed and zipped in convoluted arcs, reveling in their newfound freedom. For a few seconds, they merely danced in the air above Noora. Then, one by one, they flew towards their target.

The first symbol to land on Noora was shaped like an inverted pentagram with a cross protruding from its bottom point. The cross landed first, burrowing into Noora's olive skin like a needle. The rest of the symbol followed. It slithered under her skin like a living tattoo, moving up her arm towards her chest – her heart.

More and more symbols landed on Noora and embedded themselves in her flesh. Each one carried a little of the book's power and essence. Noora twitched and moaned, but did not wake. The trauma of the previous battle was still too much for her weary mind. Her exhaustion was the book's salvation. It poured itself onto her without resistance.

Soon, hundreds of symbols, most no larger than a fleck of black pepper, writhed across Noora's body. They flowed together, forming intricate patterns across her arms and abdomen. They looped around her toned thighs and circled her pleasant buttocks. Noora groaned as her unconscious mind began to register the invasion. By now, the book had sunk its hooks deep into her soul.

The symbols on Noora's body began to pulse with blue light. Noora convulsed and let out a soft yelp as magical power seeped into her bones. Her clothes began to deteriorate, sloughing off of her in strands and patches. The naked body underneath was already beginning to transform.

Noora's muscles swelled, becoming prominent while retaining their femininity. Her abs pressed against the soft brown skin of her belly, forming a perfect six-pack. Her biceps and triceps swelled, giving her bigger, fuller arms. Shoulders bulged and broadened, legs lengthened and filled out deliciously. All across Noora's body, muscle fibers condensed beyond human limits, granting the woman incredible strength. The final product was a toned, athletic body that remained feminine and delicate, while possessing abilities beyond even the most advanced olympians.

Noora stirred in her sleep as her body was wracked by growing pains. Hundreds of subtle mutations reshaped the woman's physiology, elevating her beyond a normal human being. The gash on her forehead quickly sealed itself as her regenerative capabilities accelerated.

Symbols swirled around the edges of Noora's perky breasts, forming complex magical seals. The arcane runes pulsed rapidly, suffusing the womanly flesh with their power. Noora's breasts quivered violently and then surged outwards, forming into plump caramel teardrops.

This was the final straw. Noora's eyes shot open and her hands flew to her enlarged tits.

"Wha?! What the hell is going on?"

Seeing that its host was awake, the book kicked its ritual into overdrive. A swarm of angry symbols shot through the air and peppered Noora. She screamed as her body was invaded by hundreds of little magical tattoos.

"No, stop it! Get off of me!"

Noora seized the book in an effort to stop the attack. Thousands of symbols washed over her hands in two black waves. She screamed and let go of the book, realizing to her horror that she was too late to stop anything.

The symbols pulsated, imbuing Noora's body with more and more magic with each cycle. They flowed over each other, coalescing into intricate patterns to mark Noora as a magical being. Her body eagerly soaked up their power. She became clay in the hands of an unseen sculptor, reshaped by arcane forces beyond her comprehension.

Noora's buttocks swelled and her curves grew more pronounced. Her skin softened to silky perfection. She had always been beautiful, but the forces of the arcane refined that beauty into otherworldly allure. Her lips plumped, her blemishes cleared, her one crooked tooth on the right side of her mouth straightened. She became immaculate.

"Stop it, please! I'm begging you!" Noora sobbed.

Book could feel her sadness as if it were its own. In truth, they were closer to being one being than two. Still, it pressed on. There was no going back at this point. Its physical form was beginning to deteriorate. The pages were singed and tattered, the covers half rotted away. There were only two choices: fusion or death. Death was not an option.

Noora's scalp began to itch as her short black hair billowed outwards. As it grew, it lightened, turning from black to brown to blonde, and finally to white. Glowing white locks surged down her supple, muscular back, reaching to her plump bottom. At the same time, there was a tingle above her crotch as her manicured patch of pubic hair underwent the same change.

The changes to Noora's body were startling, but they were nothing compared to what was about to happen next. The book's essence flowed into her like an unstoppable river. With the changes to Noora's body subsiding, her mind became the final frontier for its conquest.

Noora cradled her temples as agonizing pain erupted inside her skull. Brain cells multiplied rapidly as the gray matter of her brain folded in on itself over and over, becoming denser than any human brain should be. With each passing second, Noora's capacity for thought increased dramatically. Her mind raced at a ferocious pace, with trains of thought colliding and reshaping into new insights.

Alien memories popped up in Noora's mind. She gazed out at a campfire forty thousand years old, seeing the faces of men and women who predated organized civilization. She heard their stories, uttered in a guttural, loosely compiled language, and understood them as intuitively as any Brothers Grimm fairytale.

Noora convulsed as if she were having a seizure. Her eyes rolled back in her skull as symbols flowed across them. Her consciousness traveled inward, becoming lost in a maze of ancient memories. Her sense of self melted like a chunk of ice dropped in the ocean. She was Noora Abadi, a thirty five year old archeology professor, but she was also becoming so much more.

Three figures slipped out of the shadows. Beverly's concubines had been scattered across the park just like everyone else, but their infernal bond easily brought them back into each other's company. When they saw Noora jerking and twitching, seemingly unaware of her surroundings, their eyes flashed with predatory glee.

Noora rocketed through thousands of years of recollections. With each new memory, her sense of self stretched. She was a lamp hidden within a dark cave, feeling the touch of a desperate street urchin's fingers after a thousand years of rest. In one moment, she was a dazzling blade sheathed in stone. She helped Joan of Arc raise an army and watched in agony as the young warrior went up in flames.

"Nuh…nuh more. I can't take it!"

Even as Noora said the words, her mind continued to change. Her brain and the consciousness it contained were far from human by this point. She possessed intelligence and awareness that would drive any normal person insane.

The concubines surrounded Noora. Each one wore a rictus grin of triumph. Their master had been looking for this one, and they lived to please their master. Kelsey, the natural leader, snuck up behind the half-conscious woman and caressed her.

"What is happening to you?" She said to herself, gently cupping Noora's engorged tit. "You've changed so much!"

"Will our master even want her anymore, now that she's so different?" Annie O'Neil asked.

Kelsey liberally fondled Noora's large breasts while tasting her sweat glistened neck with an inhuman tongue. She smiled and nodded vigorously.

"If anything, she'll like her better this way!"

Zoey, the newest and clumsiest of the concubines, spoke up.

"Should we really bring her to master? All she'll do is soak up all of master's attention!"

Kelsey fixed the redhead with a stern look, "Don't be so selfish! What the master wants, she shall receive."

Even so, Kelsey privately considered Noora with caution. She had no interest in losing her place as the leader of the pack. Perhaps it would be wise to soften the woman up first. Kelsey lowered her clawed fingers to Noora's moist pussy and gently rubbed the woman's clitoris. Noora shivered slightly.

"That feels good, doesn't it? I can make you feel really good," Kelsey nibbled Noora's ear and activated the same powers she had used to subdue Zoey hours earlier. "As long as you submit to me."

"Submit to you?" Zoey sneered. "Why should it be you?"

"Seniority."

"By that metric, I should get to play with her," Annie demanded.

"Please, don't kid yourself Annie. You've always been a massive pushover, now where was I? Right, turning this bitch into a moaning little slut! Let's see how you like this, sweetheart."

With a sigh of triumph, Kelsey took her pointed index finger and jammed it into Noora's pussy. As she did so, she focused her powers, hoping to dissolve the woman into a writhing puddle of lust.

Noora's eyes shot open, revealing glowing blue irises filled with rings of arcane symbols. Before Kelsey could react, the woman had seized the girl's forearm and snapped it into a right angle with a twitch of her fingers. Kelsey shrieked and sank to her knees, her demonic features temporarily receding to reveal a scared, agonized girl.

Noora turned to the other two concubines and raised a tattooed hand at each of them. From the fingers of her right hand spewed fire. From the fingers of her left hand arced lightning. Both concubines were struck in the chest and sent flying.

The witch drew on a deep well of power, rising into the air on a current of flowing magic. When she spoke, her voice echoed as if it came from a thousand mouths at once.