Queen of the Monsters Ch. 01

Morrigan yanked her head to the side to avoid seeing any more. What she saw next was almost as disturbing. This figure was her as well, but...so much more. The woman was at least twelve feet tall and partially resembled the original woman from her dream, with the glorious magenta hair. Her body, though, was entirely composed of that chitinous armour save for her face, which held a mouth brimming with razor sharp teeth identical to the ones Karak had. She looked down upon Morrigan with a distant contempt, flapping a pair of huge wings that emerged from her back like some twisted Gigerian angel. Even after all that, her eyes fell to the strangest sight of all: a cock placed between her legs. Easily a foot long, it stood rock hard and drooled a thick glowing substance that, in her lust addled state, Morrigan couldn't help but lick her lips over.

"Strong Queen. Force of control, order, leads the hive. Strongest Queen of all leads entire Deluge, but rare. Last one thousands of years ago. Time will tell what Queen you will be. Both have their place."

The two Queens, the two fates, disappeared into a haze, and Morrigan's attention returned to the enormous cock inside her. The pace had slowed during the demonstration, but now returned to a steady, merciless rhythm. Each push netted another quick gasp or moan, feelings of submissive passivity washing over her in waves that made the tension in her lower half build towards its inevitable climax. It would be so easy to just give up here. To be that submissive, eager broodmother. She let her heart flutter with the idea.

Then, with a strength she didn't know she had, she flipped Karak onto its back while keeping him plugged inside her. Now pinning him, she traced her finger along its long body and smiled the smile of a predator.

"Let's find out what kind of Queen I can be," she said. Karak didn't resist this treatment, merely appearing intrigued by the development. Getting a feel for just how much dick the creature had shoved inside her, Morrigan lifted up and nearly off of its girth. Then, with a sly grin, stuffed herself with it like it was just another sex toy in her collection.

The beast hissed. Apparently whatever she was doing felt as good for it as it did for her. With a good judge of just how much length she had to play with, she got to riding, pressing her hands into its chest to steady herself. Lurid noises filled the air, wet slapping mingled with its growls and hissing, topped by her unhindered moaning. She was almost proud of the noises she was making, claiming pleasure from its terrifying entity.

She ground herself closer and closer to climax. She knew what would happen if she stayed on top of Karak. But it felt too good to stop. She craved, yearned for, needed its cock plunged deep in her pussy. It completed her. It sated her urges for not just sex, but a new need. The power of control was intoxicating. To tame this monster that was moments before pinning her to the earth. Using it. Her breeding slave. Her subject.

With a final bottoming out, she came. Her muscles clenched and she cried out to the ethereal heavens above in her mindscape. Her pussy squeezed down upon the monstrous cock, practically begging for it to follow suit. Karak, in the end, could do nothing but obey. She could feel it pulse within her as the beastial entity howled with her. Thick spurts of hot cum glazed her insides, filling her up further than humanly possible. With its flared end keeping her plugged up, the cum had nowhere to go but up and outward, bloating up her body to obscene proportions. The same size as her 'weak queen' doppelganger, she realized with shock. But it still felt so good. Her stomach pushed out, belly stretching out with faux pregnancy at the sheer volume that Karak could provide.

"There," it purred, "Receive my gift. A mere fraction of your body's potential restored."

She could see the fluid it injected inside her begin to glow, even through her skin. Tingling filled her entire form, and she relaxed as a wave of changes washed over her vulnerable form...

***

Her eyes snapped open. The first thing she noticed was that the light in the vent above her was still off. She'd awoken in the "night" once more. But far from deathly silence, the walls were rumbling, a reverberation from an impact of something either very close by or something very, very large.

Her entire body ached. Like she'd used every muscle at once in some brutal calisthenics course. Her legs seized, and she fell back on the bed to massage them. As she kneaded her muscles, her fingers found purchase on much more muscle underneath the skin than she remembered. She had the calves of a long distance runner. Looking around the rest of her body, similar muscle groups had blossomed. How had that happened?

The dream. The gift that the creature had given her...could this be a part of it? Had the changes Karak mentioned have been actual, real modifications?

Was she really not crazy?

The door opened once more. Instead of the white diffused light through the portal, she saw flashing red strobing. Tall entered first, looking worse than she'd ever seen him. His normally orderly hair was mussed, like he'd just woken up. His trademark white coat was rumpled and stained with flecks of a luminescent blue fluid. He was followed by a pair of men in the stark black and white guard armour. One of them might have been the one who had prevented her previous escape attempts, but it was impossible to see anything besides their piercing stares through the full body protection.

"This is the one," Tall said, pointing a crooked finger at Morrigan before jerking his head back to look over his shoulder, "Gas the rest but you two need to make sure she's dead."

"I'm sorry?!" Morrigan asked, her adrenaline spiking.

"These weapons can't deliver lethal jolts," one of the guards said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Get creative. You're both big boys, I assume you can kill one unarmed woman without resorting to firearms. Just do it quick, I don't know how long we have."

His sentence was punctuated by a bloodcurdling howl. The guards spun around, reflexively looking for the source. In that fraction of a second's worth of distraction, Morrigan saw a chance to survive. Weeks of built up resentment unleashed, and she grabbed one of the taser sticks by the pommel, put another hand on a guard's elbow, and thrust it to the side with all her might. The arc connected with the guard on the left, causing him to yelp and spasm. By the time the first guard had tossed her to the side, the second had flopped to the ground.

"You little..." he cursed, taking a swing with his baton. She blocked it with her forearm, waiting for the spike of pain or the sound of a cracking bone. Neither came. Instead, her arm remained where it was. All that muscle on the guard should have been enough to knock her to the ground. But it hadn't. She looked at her limb in wonder, eyes widening when she saw the patch of skin around the impact point had turned to the same chitinous armour of the woman from her dream.

"It was real!" she stated, almost as confused as the guards.

Tall stared, a look of fear in his eyes that he tried desperately to hide behind bravado. "That's...that's not supposed to happen! The process is only neurochemical!"

The guard looked to the man, then back to Morrigan. His confusion didn't last long, replaced with the muscle memory of training. He stabbed out with the taser end of the stick, little lightning bolts crackling from the prongs. She dodged, sliding out of the way of his strike with a serpentine grace she'd never experienced or demonstrated before. So she was fast as well as tough...

More wild swings, each dodged with minimal effort. A final swipe saw the man overextend his elbow. She slammed her hands into either side of his arm and twisted. A sick pop told her it was dislocated. The baton fell from his fingers, allowing her to swoop downward, grab hold before it touched the ground, and bring it back on an overhead stabbing arc down onto the injured guard. He seized and flopped like a sack of spuds.

A part of her felt bad for the violence. Remorse, even. But these men would have killed her given the chance. This was just survival.

Tall ran for the door. She stepped into his path. The man stutter stepped back, looked to yank his fist back, then used it to reach into his breast pocket and retrieve a mini-syringe. A lethal dose of something, no doubt. Morrigan caught his hand with her empty one and squeezed. The glass broke in his fingers.

"F-fuck!" he screamed, using his other hand to try and pry his right loose. She didn't budge until she was sure he got the message. She let him go, and he clutched his bleeding palm. "You'll never get off the base. The guards on all the other levels have lethal munitions and are locking down this base as we speak. I don't care what that alien shit did to you, you won't block a laser carbine."

Part of her, a dark and savage part, wanted to hurt him more. To extract all the information she wanted from his pathetic body then leave what's left in a pile. But...he was right. There had to be more guards on their way, and if she wanted out, she'd have to get moving. Before taking off, however, she did yank Tall's badge card from his coat.

"You wanted to know my name?" she asked rhetorically, stepping out of the cell, "It's Morrigan. Better hope we never meet again. Because if we do, I'm carving it into your body so you'll never forget." And with a press of a button on the panel, the door slammed itself shut, deadbolts clacking into place and the seam disappearing into the wall.

She breathed in the air in the corridor. Despite it being in the same facility, likely under the exact same conditions, it smelled...fresh.

She loped down the corridor, stun stick held in her right hand. Sacrifice stealth for speed, she could hear every step she made. Not the heavy footfalls of boots but the meaty slap of her bare feet on cold metal. That, and the paper thin gown she wore, would announce to anyone she ran into that she was a prisoner. She needed a new outfit.

"At least for variety's sake," she mumbled, suddenly aware that she'd been wearing the same clothes for as long as she had memories.

Tall seemed to know way more about her life than he wanted to let on. Maybe she could track down a database on her way out. It was a long shot, but the more information she had on what they did to her, the better chance she had of having it reversed. That was, of course, if she could make it out of here alive.

"HELP! They're gonna kill us!" a cracking voice called from around the corner. She snapped out of her reverie, Tall's words coming back to her. The other test subjects were to be gassed...

She sprinted, rounding the corner so fast that her momentum carried her into the far wall. Her feet came out on instinct, and for the briefest of moments she was truly running on the wall. The brief gravity defying maneuver was enough to draw the attention of a trio of guards standing outside an open door. Two of them, in black/white guard armour, looked familiar. The third, in a red labcoat, did not.

The pistol he pulled from a belt holster was unfamiliar too.

Morrigan dived for her life into the alcove around a door just in time. Bullets thwipped past, impacting the walls with heavy clangs, joined by the tinkling of spent brass. Firearm then. Some people still carried those as backup weapons or in places where more advanced weaponry wouldn't be as effective or could damage important equipment. That explanation came from nowhere and left her mind just as quickly. No time to ask why, focus on the problem at hand.

She hit the green 'Open' button on the control pad for the door she was sheltering against. No dice. Thinking quickly, she pressed the badge to a black square next to the door controls. It dinged, and she was able to command it to open. Inside was...

"Fucking broombots?!" she said, staring at the pair of squat cylinder drones plugged into charging stations on opposite sides of a very cramped room. Scattered above them on shelves was various other cleaning equipment, some in mechanically accessible dispensers and other stuff that needed human hands to operate. Great, she was going to die in a janitor's closet.

"Come out of there with your hands up!" an authoritative voice called out. That sounded like a bad idea, given that the one with the gun had just shot first and didn't appear to be in the mood for asking questions. But what could she possibly do against a firearm?

She set the taser stick down and looked at the bots. They were waist high little trash cans on a pair of wheels. She hefted one up, and was surprised when it lifted easily. It looked a lot heavier than that. Must be empty on the inside, she reasoned. At least she had something to block a bullet.

The moment she saw the muzzle of a gun drift into sight, Morrigan charged. The man in the red coat got two more shots off that pumped into the body of the poor, inactive robot before she shoved it with both hands directly at him. It impacted his unprotected chest with a thud, knocking the wind out of him in a violent gasp for air. Morrigan rushed the rest of the way, pulled the gun from his weakened grasp, and pistol whipped him down. He sagged, still trying to breathe.

"Don't quit your dayjob, bud," she said to the gasping man. She turned to the other two guards, the pistol in her off-hand coming on line with the nearest. Her arm didn't shake a millimeter. "You guys though! Quit your dayjobs immediately. Scatter."

They exchanged a glance. Once shrugged, then they both took off down the hall. She wondered why the hell she feared these clowns in the first place.

While she stripped the red labcoat and, more importantly, the sporty shoes from the disarmed gunman, heads poked out from the open door down the hall that the guards had been busy with. She kept an eye on it, but didn't move to investigate until her feet were covered. By the time she'd donned the coat, a steady trickle of people were stepping out from the room.

All of them wore the same outfit that she'd had on for however long they had imprisoned her. But aside from that, there were no similarities. All heights, weights, ethnicities, gender expressions, some had tattoos, some had prosthetics, some had scars, others had the plugs for a neural rig on the side of their heads. It was a veritable smorgasbord of humanity, perhaps even purposefully so.

The first one to step closer than the edge of the door frame was a tall woman with wide red eyes and gorgeous curled black hair. She held her hands out at her side, palms out, and stepped closer.

"Are you one of their subjects too?" she asked.

Morrigan nodded. "I just got out. Something's got the guards spooked, and I felt something shake through the walls."

The woman pointed back at the small crowd at the door. "Well, first off, thank you. The guy you just took out was taking us all somewhere at gunpoint. I figure it couldn't have been good. Whatever operation they were running seems to be wrapping up, and we're all loose ends that need tying. Nice work on disarming him, by the way. Never known someone your size could toss a Broombot like a shotput."

She smiled. "Brings me to four, actually. You know that tall fucker with the jawline and the bad attitude?" She waited for an acknowledgement before continuing. "I think I broke his hand."

The other woman barked a laugh. "Good for you. Patterson's a real Grade A prick. The name's Sybil. You?"

"Morrigan," she said, a firm confidence to the words. It felt good to introduce herself.

"Well, Morrigan, you can clearly handle yourself, and if you're in the same shit as we are, why don't you come with us?"

"You got a plan?" Morrigan asked a little too loudly.

"Well, we got half of one. Most of us didn't remember getting put here, but Caleb was only pretending to be under anaesthetic when they took him from the docking bay to this level. With his help, we might be able to make it to where they keep their shuttles. After that," she shrugged, "It's anyone's guess. But it beats staying here long enough to find out what in God's Cosmos is making this base shake. Unfortunately, none of us have any space flight experience, thoough Magda flew sea skippers on Lemuria. Can you fly a shuttle?"

Morrigan shook her head, then the weight of the woman's words made her eyes bulge. "Wait, you remember your past?"

"Of...course we do? The experiment did some weird shit but we're still us at the end of the day." The woman's expression went from appreciative to concerned. "Do you not? What did they do to you?"

"I don't know. I can't remember a thing. Well, fragments. Flashes of memories, and dreams of being at the centre of a thousand different aliens. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Unfortunately not. But that might explain why we never saw you. Our captives might have kept you locked up because whatever they were trying gave you a bad reaction, and that represents a different data point than the rest of us."

Morrigan thought back to the encounter with the creature in her dreams. "Do you know what they were doing to us?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were drowned out by another thunder crack that shook the station. This time followed by a blaze of fully automatic gunfire coming from somewhere down the hallway in the direction from whence Morrigan came.

"Alright, as much as I love comparing notes, we're gonna die if we keep gabbing here. Let's get the fuck outta here."