Supernatural Short Bus

"Promising," Sarah said out loud. "Guess there's nothing to do but go for it." With a few short steps she reached the barrier and, taking a deep breath, she stepped through. The effect was similar to taking a bath in rubbing alcohol but wasn't painful. She stopped, hands on her knives. The bus was there. Immediately, Sarah grabbed two of her knives from her side, raising the right above her head with the left pointed straight out. The bus turned its large eyes to her and the slightly rusted grill grinned. "Drop it! Drop the illusion or I'll make you do it!" She yelled.

Where the short bus was before was now a pink, fleshy, tentacled nightmare. The creature was nearly square and somewhat flat with bulbous protrusions dotting its back. Or stomach. Or... Sarah couldn't quite figure out which part was which. There was a toothless maw roughly where they bus's mouth used to be but no eyes. Hundreds of tentacles lined the perimeter, flailing in the cold night air. She'd never yet met a demon this powerful and so she began to wonder if she had made a terrible mistake. She could feel the aura radiating from it now that it wasn't pretending to be something else. Oh gods, she thought. Where did we sit? What did it do to us when we were riding it?

A powerful voice spoke to her mind. Little Sarah. Little terrified girl. Little pitiful thing. You thought you could save your friends, didn't you? You spent so many years training for this moment and, now that you're here, you wish you had never come. The doubt is in you, little one. The fear. Demon slayer? Righteous right hand of God? It laughed, deep and rich in her mind. Will you tell them how you created the spear to kill my pet?

Sarah's eyes tightened. She took a small sliding step forward, her knives vibrating from her grip. "No. Stop, demon. I command-"

Would they still thank you if they knew how you cut the little girl from throat to stomach, bathing the tip of the spear in the innocent virgin's blood? Would they still see you as their savior?

"I DRUGGED HER! SHE DIED IN BLISS, NEVER FEELING A THING!" Sarah felt a rage she'd not felt since Iraq. Not since that first tomb.

The laughter came again. And that makes it all right, does it? Poor little thing. Poor little scared thing. You tried so hard. You came so far. The voice left her mind and she shivered from its absence in the sudden, bottomless silence. When it came again, it was a wave crashing into her skull. Too far, little one. You never considered, did you? What your studies would do to you? Where your path would take you? You have more than one foot in the gateway to hell, little slut. Little whore. You sold your soul word by word, deed by deed, thinking it would protect you from things like me. Never once considering that it would only make you more vulnerable. Drop the knives, filthy little slut.

"No..." Sarah whispered. She fought it. The command reverberated through her body. Her grip loosened. "No. No, you can't." Her left hand opened, dropping the knife to the ground. She moaned and then grit her teeth, putting her entire body into the strength in her right hand. Stepping forward against the wall of force. "I'll kill you before-"

Drop it.

And, she did. Her hands fell to her sides. She felt tears welling at the corner of her eyes, the pain of defeat and humiliation catching in her throat. It wasn't fair. To have it come down to this. "Kill me then, monster. I'll meet you in hell some day and then I'll have my revenge."

Kill you? It asked, genuinely surprised. No. I have better plans for you, my little slut. My little pet. Strip and come to me.

Sarah's head snapped up. "Goddamn you, I won't-" But her hand was already working at the buckles near her waist.

Chapter 5

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Peter stood beside the first door as the others left. John, Kelly and Hannah walked to the end of the hall, heading for the stairs leading up. His eyes strayed to Hannah's ass in her dark blue slacks. Not much of an ass but not- He shook himself. What the hell? First the thing downstairs and now Hannah? Get a grip, Peter. Tricia called to Adam from the doorway and, after a moment, he joined her and they left. The stench seemed to fade slowly and he was glad for it; it made his teeth itch and his sinuses burn.

"Thank you for coming with me, Peter." Sandra said next to him. "Should we go? The door right across the way here-"

"No, I'll take it first." Peter said, moving ahead of her. "If Ms. Chapman turned into that thing, I don't know what Chami would look like. I'll look first."

Sandra watched this young man as he opened the door marked with a number "2". She touched her lip with her index finger as he stepped into the small room. "You have changed," she told him. "What happened to that shy little boy I used to know, Peter?" He turned to her from just inside the room and she could see him blush. She grinned back. Through all the horrors they just witnessed, he was still at least somewhat the Peter she knew.

"I... awww, Sandra. You're killing me here. People change. Besides, I'm still terrified. I just don't want you getting hurt. Better me than you. The thought of something happening to you makes me mad." He looked away from her, his cheeks flaming red.

"Oh, Peter. Come on you wimp, no blushing and stammering." She walked into the room with him and was amazed at his presence. He just seemed to loom over her without doing anything at all. And she swore he sniffed a little as she passed him. She surprised herself by feeling little butterflies at the pit of her stomach. When they were kids, she'd had a crush on him and even stole a kiss from him in the 9th grade. The poor boy thought she was making fun of him and never took it seriously. Sadly, she moved half-way through the year and never got a chance to show him otherwise. And, since then, she'd become disgusted with most of the men she knew. Overly aggressive assholes that thought a swagger would get her pants unzipped. She was afraid to say it in their little group discussion earlier but she had a girlfriend back home. She wasn't ashamed of it. Not really. But, somehow, when she tried to open her mouth to say that she was mostly into girls these days, she couldn't do it. Not while facing her old classmates and teacher.

And now here she was with this grown-up version of the timid, kind little boy she'd had a crush on. And the crush was still there. She'd almost always been the one to stand up for Peter when he was being picked on or to take the lead on their little adventures... Her thoughts faltered. Were those real? Was any of that real with Ms. Chapman? Real or not, the timid little boy could sometimes show surprising strength. Here he was again, surprising her by leading the way and trying to protect her. And those damn butterflies were flitting about in her stomach. Taunting her. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eyes, looking at his pants and wondering what he looked like naked. Now her cheeks were red.

"You smell good, Sandra." Peter said suddenly. "I... Oh... oh man. I can't believe... I'm sorry. I'll... this room is good, I'll go to the next one." God. Now her cheeks were positively on fire. How did he do that to her? A stupid little comment that, coming from most other men, would have her biting their heads off. She finished checking the small closet and then followed him.

"Hey, Peter. What happened? Was Ms. Chapman right? About the lawyer stuff? We kind of fell out of touch but I always wondered how you were doing. I thought of you from time to time." I'm a whore. Oh my gosh. A straight up slut, flirting with him right out in the open. I might as well just get down on my knees and suck his dick. Now the butterflies were drooling in her stomach. Not even a good slut, she told herself, blushing.

"I went on to law school and did okay. Nothing great but I passed. Took three times to make it past the bar exam. There's a lot of lawyers out there, Sandra. Way, way too many. I did some intern work but got tired of waiting for my own cases. So, I opened up a practice and thought I was so cool. Instead, I got crap cases. Fighting tickets. Getting drunk drivers off light. I didn't win a lot of my cases but at least I'm still working." Peter bent down to look under the bed. "Do you think this place has air conditioning? It's too hot in here."

Is he flirting with me now? Was that what that was just now? Or is he actually too warm? Can't be because I'm freezing in here. Oh my gosh. He's flirting with me. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? Whoa, whoa, Sandra. Hold on. There's a dead fucking demon downstairs. You're not doing anything. She watched him for a minute and then turned to the desk. "Ha ha. Yeah. It is a little warm in here." Slut! Sluuuuuut!

Peter stood, walking past her to the closet. He stopped right next to her with his eyes closed. Sandra froze, unsure of what to do. He leaned into her ear and sniffed. His face was so warm next to hers. She could feel the heat radiating off of his skin. With his eyes still closed, Peter leaned further to her neck, under her chin and then up to her other ear, sniffing here and there. She moved her head as he moved his. It was... different. But somehow not unpleasant. His voice was lower when he spoke. "Very good. You smell very good." And then he stepped away to the closet.

"What... what were we talking about?" He asked. Now his voice was confused.

"Ummm... ummm..." Sandra was at a loss for words. Did he not just know what he did? Did that just happen? It was kind of creepy yet... somehow not. In a way it was very personal and warm and... She turned away from him, opening random desk drawers without actually looking in them. "I sing. I like to sing." Oh Jesus on a toast of fucking burnt bread. Seriously? You like to sing? That's the best you can come up with right now? After that? You're so fucking brain dead.

"Yeah. Yeah. I bet you're good at it too. You had a beautiful voice. I loved sitting and listening to you. Hell, I just loved sitting next to you. Wanting to touch you. To kiss you. To... Why's it so hot in here?" Peter was tugging at the throat of his shirt. "Ugh. This place is fine. Come on Sandra, let's go on to the next room." He left and she simply followed him without finishing her own check.

"All right, this one... OH CHRIST!" Peter collapsed to the ground, clutching at his reddening throat.

"Peter! Peter, are you okay?! What's wrong! Peter!" She saw the veins bulging on his neck. Sweat covered his entire body and his clothes were immediately soaked with it. She grabbed him, pulling him into the next room. "Peter, talk to me!"

"It hurts so much! My whole body! Why does it hurt so mu - aaaaaaargh!" Peter clawed red lines down his chest as he ripped his plain white t-shirt in half. His fingers were tipped in black shiny claws and traces of blood. He turned his face to Sandra and she could see his pain. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, nearly completely red. He opened his mouth to moan and she watched as his canine teeth grew, popping out the teeth next to them. Growing larger and longer until they were razor tipped. Other teeth fell out in little bloody pops. New teeth broke through his gum line, smaller yet just as sharp as his canines were. "Please, Sandra. Please. Please. Please." Lines of blood trailed down the corner of his mouth. His hands went to his head and he pulled at his hair, yanking out thick strands until he was nearly completely bald.

Peter's body jack-knifed as he uttered a wordless scream. His hands flailed to his sides, clawing along the floor. She watched in horror as his hands expanded into what she could only describe as paws. He scrabbled at his pants with the new fingers, desperately working at his buttons. Scores of tiny black dots appeared on Peter's hairless, pasty chest. Almost lazily, blond hair grew from his chest across his upper chest and then slightly down his stomach. His chest cracked, widening as the pectoral muscles expanded. Hair grew in a line from his underwear and up his chest, meeting the hair that'd grown down his body. He'd ripped his pants open and was tugging them off as best as he could with his awkward fingers.

Sandra flattened herself against the wall. This is wrong. This is all wrong. What should I do? What can I do?

Peter turned onto his side, groaning in some unearthly deep voice. He'd kicked his shoes off in time for her to watch his toenails be shoved off by thick, menacing claws that tore through his dirty socks. She heard a large crack as his right foot seemingly snapped and then doubled in length. Dark patches of skin grew on the soles of his feet, puffing out slightly into thick, leathery pads. His leg hair was growing out. Thickening into fur and flowing down to his toes as his bones cracked, reshaping his legs.

More large cracks made Sandra flinch. His back. His back was nearly bubbling as muscles beneath his skin bunched, tore, expanded and then reattached in different positions. She watched his spine pop in and out of place as he screamed. Just above his ass, flesh was growing out, lined with little blond hairs. A tail, she thought. Oh my god. An actual tail. The hair grew up from his tail and along his spine, fanning out at his shoulders and then down his back.

Peter's legs spasmed, kicking the bed against the wall, tearing chunks of the wood frame out with the claws on his feet. The seams along the sides of his pants split and she saw blond fur push through. His thighs and calf muscles twitched over and over as they expanded, easily dwarfing any Olympic weight lifter she'd seen.

To her ever-lasting embarrassment, her eyes strayed to Peter's crotch as he turned over again, pulling himself up to his hands and knees. He was entirely erect. Extra skin grew up around his balls and along the base of his dick. The dick itself was pulsing and turning a darker pink color. Small veins stood out as it thickened and then thickened again. The head of his dick stretched and vanished as it grew in length, tapering off to a point.

Peter was panting now, grunting in pain but the changes seemed to be subsiding. He hung his head down as he breathed deeply. Roughly. The air passed his lungs in a rumble. He almost whined as the new thick skin at the base of his dick was pushed down slightly by a bulging lump. His dick grew again and the lump thickened, turning into a knot just above his ball sack. Thick and red, his penis bobbed in the air while the tipped flattened ever so slightly. She had no idea how big his dick was but she'd never seen one that large outside of a porno.

He turned to her. His eyes were a beautiful golden color but his face was a wreck of pain and teeth. "H... help meeeeee..." His nose turned black and was immediately pulled forward on his face, riding a wave of flesh and crackling bones. When he opened his eyes again to look at her, Peter was gone. She wasn't sure how she could tell but the eyes looking back at her were not the caring, kind Peter she knew. Dark brown fur lined the side of his blond-furred muzzle.

Peter stood and she followed his unsteady progress. Up. And up. And up more. He looked himself over briefly as he stood on the balls of his new feet. Paws. She heard the sharp 'tic' sound of his claws as he steadied himself. And then he looked at her again and licked his pure black lips. His furry tail slowly wagged behind him and she watched his massive paw nonchalantly caress his own erection. Her heart hammered in her chest. She could faintly smell his sweat, blood and the faint stench of a wet dog.

"N... now, Peter... You don't... Look... You just... Peter?" She tried pressing herself further against the wall when he took a step towards her. He had to be at least two feet taller than she was. At least. He bent towards her and she felt his hot breath on her as he repeated the same gesture from earlier, smelling her from ear to ear. His breath was not pleasant. Definite dog smell combined with the blood from his teeth and everything else. The butterflies in her stomach were panicking. She couldn't tell if she had to pee or faint or throw up or run. Instead, she slid along the wall and made her way to the door.

She stopped when he growled at her. She could see the anger in his eyes. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, skin bunching where his forehead should be. She tried to run out of the room but he was there in an instant and she was accidentally knocked far back against the far wall. Her vision swam. "Peter, please. Please, don't. You're still in there, aren't you Peter? You're still there." The werewolf stepped towards her and she didn't move. "Come back to me, Peter. I know you're still there. Look at me. I'm nothing. I can't hurt you. Please, Peter. Please." He crouched in front of her, massive leg muscles bunching as he did. His tail swept the floor in a small pattern.

"Please, Peter. Please. You're not this. You're gentle. Always so ge-" She didn't know his hand had moved until she couldn't breathe any more. He had her pinned by her neck to the wall, claws embedded into the old wood behind her. The thick padding on the palms of his hand was rough against her throat. She grabbed at his wrist and forearm but he was so strong. His other hand reached for her blouse and ripped down, easily cutting through both shirt and bra, leaving thin red lines of blood down her chest and stomach. She didn't feel the pain until he was reaching down with his furred muzzle to slowly lick the bloody lines. Her small breasts felt the cold air and the right side of her shirt fell away to expose her nipple. She prayed she would pass out. Prayed for it even though she'd stopped believing in a proper God when she was in high school.

Peter growled again, dragging his long rough tongue up from her belly to rasp against her nipple. It hurt more than it felt good but the damn nipple still grew erect from all of the attention of his long, dog-like tongue. Peter grabbed her right hand and roughly pulled it to him, placing her hand against his cock. Sandra fought back tears as she gasped for what little air she could. When he took his hand away, she snatched hers back, pulling again at the paw around her neck. He growled, lifting her easily with his one hand until she was standing.

And then, he turned her around. She tried kicking at him but she mostly missed and, when she did connect, it was like kicking a rock. His hand was steady on her throat as the other hand raked down her back, tearing her blouse completely apart. He tugged down slightly, cutting into the top of her skirt. He pulled again and the skirt bit into her skin before falling around her ankles. She felt his claws slicing her open immediately this time - it burned worse than anything she'd ever felt. Deeper than the cuts on her front. His hand came up again, surprisingly gentle as it traced the marks on her back. She felt the tip of the claw gently slide down and down until it reached her ass. With a deft move, he sliced through the side of her panties and then tossed them aside. She was sobbing now. Sobbing as her blood run freely down her back and front.

Sandra felt the tip of his cock against her ass as he leaned into her. His fur was soft against her smooth ass and she could feel the weight of him without him even pressing hard against her. She froze, the fight suddenly leaving her. The smooth, slightly ribbed skin of his cock rubbed gently against her as he rubbed slowly, growling quietly. Sandra's eyes were closed and her world seemed so small. He was her world. His arms pressed into the wall on either side of her. His slightly unpleasant smell nearly suffocated her this close. Heat fairly radiated from him and she couldn't run any more. Small and helpless. Peter lowered himself and his fat cock rubbed against her asshole briefly the tip pressed lightly between her pussy lips. There was no hesitation as Peter pushed into her. She was completely dry on the outside and now she did scream again, suddenly kicking and squirming as he filled her.