Outsiders Pt. 06

"What about the brown girl," she asked with a little venom in her voice, "or is the role of journalist just for the tall, white women?"

"Whoah, whoah, hold up," Krista said. "The FBI is doing background checks on all the journalists. I can get fake accreditations and face time with top brass for the two of us, but not for you!"

"Why not!?"

Krista looked at her like she was stupid. "Because you're wanted by the FBI," she slowly said. "Remember? They put you away in that asylum that got all... bloodbathy and stuff..."

Lisa looked to be cooling down, but then said, "The local police are looking for Raven and I'm sure your picture is on a wanted poster somewhere, too!"

"The Feds don't routinely check in with every single backwater police station in the country," Krista said. "They have their own databases and those are the ones they run press IDs against. You're in their database, probably flagged high priority, and you can't even come along with us as a camera operator."

Lisa seethed in her seat, but took no action and made no comment. Ben's eyes just darted between the two, expecting a fight to break out at any point. "Guys," he spoke to them softly, "chill out. I've got a way around all of this." He picked up the Player's Handbook and quickly flipped through it to open it on the page that contained the Seeming spell. "Read this!" He set the book down on the table and the three girls leaned forward to read the spell description.

The Seeming spell could change the girls' appearances and make them look like different people. The only way for anyone to see through the illusion was if they touched the girls and realized the discrepancy between what their eyes and hands were telling them. Even then, they'd still have to have the willpower to resist the spell.

"I can cast this on all three of you and you can go in to do the interviews without running the risk of being spotted," he said. He looked to each of the girls as they pondered the possibility.

"You're not gonna make us look ugly," Raven asked.

"Of course not," Ben said, "that'd make it more likely for you to be found out. I'd cast the spell to make you look very similar to the way you look now, just different enough to not be recognized by the Feds." The girls thought about it for a little while longer. Finally, they nodded, one by one, in acceptance of the plan.

"Sorry I yelled at you," Lisa said to Krista.

"It's ok," Krista said. Ben let out a quiet sigh of relief. "So, can I call my man and have him make us the press passes," Krista asked him. He nodded and she left the table to make the call.

They spent the day watching the movies and vegging out on the couch, taking breaks only to have lunch and dinner. The heat outside was still unbearable. The girls warmed to the concept of Iron Man suits and asked Ben to make a suit for each of them. He promised to do his best and the four of them retired to a bedroom. The girls made out with each other and rode his cock until he sprayed his seed and fell into an exhausted sleep.

By the time Ben woke up the next day, Krista was already back from the meeting with her forger friend. She brought press passes for all three of them. Raven made breakfast and they sat down in front of their wall of screens and flipped on the news channels, intent on observing how real journalists conducted interviews, so the girls would be more convincing, when their turn came.

The screens showed a tableau of horror.

Muslims violently protested the new legislature that dictated the cremation of all human and animal remains. Imams were declaring a caliphate in North America and calling for all the people to convert to Islam and be protected by Allah. Their main argument was that the dead had risen from infidel graves.

Christians of all sects and denominations responded that it was their God who smote the undead and that that meant their religion was the only one that brought salvation. The more moderate ones called for the nation to be baptized as quickly as possible, the more extreme ones called for the outlawing and extermination of other religions, along with atheists, gays and undesirable scientists. Other religions mostly sat out the fierce media debate, but they didn't sit on their thumbs.

Jews gathered around their cemeteries and chained themselves to the gates, hoping to stop the National Guard from carrying out the President's order to exhume and incinerate all corpses buried in the last five years. Orthodox Jews went a few steps further than that. They took up arms and blew up crematoriums, wherever they could.

A nationwide curfew was put in place and martial law was declared in several states and dozens of cities. The streets of half the cities in America were beginning to look like post-apocalyptic movie sets. Blood was spilled as the National Guard fired at crowds of protesters. The sovereign citizen movement popped up in full force and started gaining thousands of armed followers daily.

"Fuck me," Ben whispered, taking it all in.

"The world is tearing itself to pieces," Lisa said. "The enemy doesn't even need to do anything about it."

They sat in stunned silence and watched and listened as the worst possible scenario unfolding before their very eyes. Their breakfasts lay cold on the table before them.

At length, Ben stood up and went to his desk. He retrieved pen and paper and came back to the shell-shocked girls. "Come on," he said, "this doesn't change anything. We still have a job to do."

"What do you mean, 'this doesn't change anything'," Raven asked. "There are people dying in the streets, right now!"

"Yes," Ben said, "and they'll all die in March if I don't save them. There's nothing we can do to stop all this bloodshed and we would risk losing everything by even trying. We need to focus on our plans and work out the wording of the questions we will ask the generals and officials in the interviews."

"Jesus Christ, Ben," Raven said, "how can you be so cold?"

Ben paused at her question, looking at the blank page on the table. "Because I have to," he said and started to write down the first question.

Simon peered around the corner and scanned the well lit street before him. It was past curfew and no cars, or pedestrians, were on the streets. All the humans were in their homes, huddled together for comfort against the things that went bump in the night. He smiled gladly.

Americans reacted to his little exploit in Philadelphia even better than he had hoped they would. Their society was collapsing in on itself. Faced with the terrible fear he had sent their way, they forgot their greatest weapon was mutually beneficial cooperation. He imagined it wouldn't be long before every little splinter group abandoned the greater whole and decided to strike out on their own. They were all doomed to fail.

He was actually starting to get a little worried that America might become a deserted wasteland before the eclipse came along. "Oh, well," he thought, "that's only three hundred million souls less to reap." The rest of the world was reacting to the raising of the dead in almost the exact opposite way and would doubtlessly survive in great numbers until he activated the portal and brought his brethren through it.

A faint sound brought him out of his ruminations and he focused on his immediate environment again. He stayed in the shadows and patiently listened. Before long, he heard the Humvee's engine thrumming closer. He stood still and waited for the National Guard patrol to pass. When the sound of their engine faded in the distance, he left his hiding place.

He crossed the street with haste and quickly made the turn around a dark corner on the other side. His eyes readapted to the darkness and he scanned the seemingly empty alleyway that ran parallel to the main street. Not everyone was indoors at this time of night. He listened for the telltale sounds of his quarry as he proceeded slowly down the alley. He passed less than sixty yards when he heard it.

He crept even closer and hid behind a dumpster.

"Oh, yeah, baby," spoke the woman's hoarse, but flat voice. "Give it to me. Yeah, that's it."

Simon peaked out from behind his shelter. Not thirty feet from him, a man was fucking a prostitute, doggy style. She was bent over at the waist and propping herself against the building's wall with her forearms to keep her face from being mashed into the plaster with every forceful thrust of her john. Simon smiled and looked down on the ground, checking it for any debris he might crunch underfoot and alert his quarry of his approach.

After picking out his footing, he slowly and silently snuck up to the rutting couple. The john was thrusting harder into the hooker. His grunting became louder than her flat encouragements so she changed them into a passionless, continuous moan.

Simon extruded his tentacles from beneath his skin and waited for the man to finish spurting his seed into the hooker's womb. As soon as the john finished blowing his wad, Simon's tentacles seized him and pulled him away from the girl, snapping his neck at the same time. Simon tossed the corpse aside. The thud drew the girl's attention and she spun around to see the man that had just fucked her lying on the ground with his head twisted the wrong way around.

Before she could react, her eyes were drawn to Simon standing behind her with his tentacles wriggling in the air. She froze in terror and incomprehension. Simon seized her with his tentacles around her limbs and throat. He gagged her mouth with a thick tentacle, to prevent her from screaming, and held her immobile in a spread-eagle position. He lifted her off the ground and pressed her against the wall behind her.

"Don't worry, little human," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to rid you of your greatest problem." His assurances made the girl struggle as hard as she could, though it was all futile in his grip. He could see the mortal fear in her wide eyes.

His tentacles spread her legs wider and drew them up to expose her hairless sex to his view. He used his human hands to undo his zipper. The girl's eyes followed his hands and her struggles lessened. Simon chuckled as he pulled his hardening cock out of his pants. The girl's wide eyes took in the sight of the seemingly ordinary cock. She couldn't be sure if it was ordinary, not in the dark of the alley, but the sight of something she was familiar with made her stop struggling and lift her gaze to Simon's eyes. Her face was trying to affect a flirty smile around the thick appendage in her mouth, but her eyes screamed the truth as Simon looked into them. She was scared to death.

Simon felt her tongue start to move against the gagging tentacle in her mouth. Her body started to slowly, rhythmically grind her hips, as much as his grip on them allowed it. He shook his head, lifted a finger and pointed it downwards. She lowered her gaze until it hit his groin again.

Jutting from his groin was another tentacle, only this one had his hard cock on its end. Her futile struggles resumed as his tentacle cock came closer and closer to her defenseless pussy. He pressed it against her opening and found it to be squeezed shut. He pushed harder and forced his shaft inside of her.

Her whole body clenched up as her muffled scream of agony rose in pitch. Her jaw locked down on the hard tentacle in her mouth, but she only succeeded in driving her teeth deeper into her gums. He slowly pushed his tentacle deeper through her soft, hot cavern, enjoying the feel of it, until he felt another point of great resistance. Her eyes shut firmly in denial as he shoved his tentacle cock past her cervix and into her womb. Her muffled scream turned into a series of muffled sobs, punctuated by desperate gasps for air.

He lodged his tentacle cock deep inside of her and began squirting material into her. His first spurt delivered the seed pod from which his servant would grow. It was the size of a pea and trailed inch-long, silky tentacles. It immediately lodged itself into the womb's tissue with the tiny tentacles. The following spurts deposited the growth medium for the servant in long, gelatinous strings that clung to the inner lining of the girl's womb like glue. After a few minutes, he was done. The seed was planted.

He reached behind himself and withdrew plastic ties from his back pockets. He drew the girl's body to himself and clamped her limbs together and secured them with the ties. He ended hobbling her by replacing his tough tentacle in her mouth with a proper ball gag. He pulled her short skirt down past her ass and positioned her body atop his shoulder. He retracted his tentacles and walked back the way he came.

The girl made pathetic, whimpering noises all the way to his car, where he stuck her in the trunk. He slammed it shut and drove to his safe house, evading the National Guard patrols with ease.

He spent the next few days minding the girl. He fed her four times a day, removing her gag only to shove more food in her mouth, and made her run on a treadmill twice a day. He didn't remove her gag for that. He took her skimpy clothing off when he first put her on the toilet to pee and didn't replace them.

The girl spent the first day bawling quietly in the corner. On the second day, she stopped crying, but flinched violently whenever he approached her and avoided looking at him whenever possible. On the third day, she was completely catatonic and he had to threaten her life to get her to eat and drink. She didn't signal him when she needed to go to the bathroom and wound up sitting in a pool of her own urine for hours.

On the fourth day, it finally happened. Withdrawal hit her hard, punching through the adrenaline haze the fear of the tentacled human had placed in her brain. Her skin was clammy and cold and every muscle in her body was trembling, despite her bonds. She was mewling in agony the whole day long.

"That's it," Simon gently told her. "That's what we need." He used a little of the power he had, no more than it took to create the seed, and sent a signal into her womb. The creature inside it reacted to the power and, having already eaten the growth medium and grown to its full measure, it extended its soft tendrils into its host's flesh. They flowed through the soft tissues of her womb and followed the nerve bundles coming from her clit all the way to her spine.

Simon sensed the seed managed to attach itself to the girl's peripheral nervous system and smiled in satisfaction. "Ok, now to the fun part," he said. "Well, fun for you. Not so much fun for me. You see, I've placed a servant inside you. It is now attached to your spine. Whenever you do something that pleases the servant, it will..."

The woman's eyes shot wide open. She shook her head in denial, but she soon started to shake in a different manner than before. Her skin flushed from neck to navel as she experienced a massive climax. Her muted wail of horror turned into a scream of pleasure that slowly petered out when she started struggling for breath.

"Of course, life for you cattle isn't always honey and roses," he said to the girl, making her open her eyes and look at him. "Whenever my servant senses you're about to do something it doesn't want you to do, or reveal its existence to anyone, it will do this to you."

Simon sent his servant another signal. The girl looked up at him with a questioning frown, for but an instant, before her agony of withdrawal came back. Only this time, it was greatly amplified. She squirmed in agony as her breath hitched. Her whole body felt like it was being frozen and burned at the same time. Her insides were being torn by dull knives and she couldn't even draw a deep breath to scream out her agony. All her muscles locked up, turning her into a flesh statue. She was trapped inside her own body, which had become a vessel for ultimate pain. She lost track of time and space. Nothing mattered in the face of the pervading agony. There was no escape.

Simon coldly regarded the trembling human before him. He assessed her movements and judged that his servant had complete access to her nervous system. It couldn't overwrite her will and take direct control of her brain to operate her body like a puppet, but it could tap into her sensory inputs to know what she was doing and train her with strong positive and negative reinforcements. Simon could create a servant capable of rewiring a human's brain and install it inside women, but creating a creature with such fine capabilities would cost him a lot of power and require many humans to be reaped. He had already decided that he would lie low until the eclipse and not risk discovery by harvesting humans in big numbers.

Even if he had plenty of power, he doubted he'd be using it to make human puppets. Proper servants were installed into the brains of species like the Ay'hicans, who were behemoths capable of erecting and flattening mountains. Putting servants into humans seemed like a waste of time and effort, but he didn't know what to expect once he activated the portal. The first thing The Primes send through might just be an assassin to finish him off and make it look like he had sacrificed himself to activate the portal. It would be the ideal outcome for them, he knew, and it would give his supporters no cause to rise up in rebellion..

He couldn't defeat an Outsider assassin, no matter how many humans he reaped before activating the portal. He was a half human hybrid and that made him far too vulnerable to be compensated against. He couldn't stay here on Earth and try to rule it with magic, even if he wanted to. For all the power that he could gain by reaping them, the humans themselves could eliminate him, if they ever found out about him.

His best chance of surviving an encounter with a would-be assassin was to create servants and hide them among the humans. They were his insurance. If he was slain, they would activate and emit a faint, coded message. Once his supporters from the home world started arriving on Earth, they would pick up on the message and dig out its source, which would lead to them finding out the truth about him. Once The Outsider public learned of The Primes killing a hero and lying about it, they would rise up in open rebellion. He wouldn't live to become Prime, but most of the existing Primes would be deposed in the uprising and their places would be taken up by his supporters.

Of course, that was only plan B. Plan A was to blackmail The Primes with the existence of the servants and force them to not kill him in the first place. Then they would have to share power.

Both his plans for what came after activating the portal hinged on successfully creating a lesser servant construct. He was now happy to see it functioning properly. His happiness was slightly tempered by the fact that the servant couldn't communicate with the girl's mind in any other way, except with the massive doses of pleasure and pain. He was going to have to hang around her for a few more days and explain to her, in no uncertain terms, exactly what she was allowed and required to do from now on. After that, he was going to move to a different corner of the Earth and repeat the procedure with the first drug-addicted prostitute he found there.

Her face smoothed over as the servant stopped flooding her brain with agony, but she remained a whimpering mess on the floor for a while to come. At one point, she became faintly aware that the agony was gone, so she blinked her eyes open and looked up at the face of her captor.

"The servant is successfully installed," he said, more to himself than the girl. "Now that you've felt what my servant inside of you can do, it is time for you to begin your training! You are my slave, controlled by the creature implanted inside of you. You do not yet understand the meaning of those words, so let us being your training by enumerating your various duties and responsibilities!"