12 comments/ 27059 views/ 20 favorites My Beloved Monster and Me By: PurpleThread (I owe the setting and initial ideas for this story to The Armageddon Virus RP forum. And, I owe all of Strig's entries to my main RP partner. He has given consent to list his posts thus.) ************************************ More than two centuries from now, in the year 2222, Earth has been ravaged by the biochemical agent now referred to as the Armageddon Virus. During the onslaught of WWIII in 2014, North Korea let loose the disease on America, and from there, it quickly spread all across the world. People infected with the Virus morphed into strange and fearsome creatures called Specters with incomprehensible abilities. In 2019, the Sanctuary was built in Canada, and it is now said that it houses all human life on earth beneath its enormous rafters. Humans live a very different lifestyle now, breeding is only for the select few, the old are discreetly discarded, and the sick are humanely euthanized. The people placidly follow their government in all things and anxiously wait for the government's elite group of warriors, the Rubix, to exterminate all the Specter vermin left on Earth. However, this is not the only human settlement. In the wastelands outside these protective walls, there are colonies scattered in the few remaining safe areas. There are nomadic tribes and gangs of outlaws traveling the cracked, barren desert. We look now to the settlement of Yellowknife, where a young girl with hair the color of rusting brass has found refuge in the night. Her name, as she understands it, is Kuramidi. By some fluke in the new, strange genetic pool, Kuramidi was born with turquoise hair. She wears dark clothes, and keeps favorite tools handy on various belts and garters. She will always be found wearing her complex goggles... and inexplicable cat-ear hat and feline tail. She is a scientist at heart, and prefers not to be violent if at all possible. The contraptions she builds from random parts do more for escape and camouflage than combat. The A-Virus may mutate most, and has had a strange effect on the current human gene pool at large, but the only visible mutation is her hair color. Other than that, her intuitive eye for mechanics could be a result of human evolution, but she does not, nor will probably ever have, any supernatural abilities. She has read of these things extensively. She remembers little of her childhood, and to her knowledge, has been living on her own since at least 10. Her first memory is of waking up in an abandoned library, doors and windows shuttered with metal and countless jugs of decontaminant littered everywhere. Upon further inspection of the facility, she discovered the library's archive to be stocked with military regulation MREs from a decade before. She spent her formative years around books, and learned just about everything she knows thusly. Now, having left the library in search of better spare parts, she finds her supplies where she can, and has always had a wonderful knack at disappearing when danger approaches. But... now that she has discovered the small community at Yellowknife, and has been welcomed into their midst... can she really expect to live a normal human life after being alienated for so long? ______________________________________ Kuramidi had some adjustment to make- being around fellow humans after a lifetime of intentional solitude- but did not mind the abundance of sustenance. She did, however, tire of the simple functions of the mechanical mender, and struck out once more into the desolate waste to find more complex components for her intricate designs. She left, of course, after sunset (as she was wont; her circadian rhythm hadn't changed quite yet). She stealthily sneaked from a handy window, taking care to make as little sound as a feline on the hunt (her cat-ears hat and tail unintentionally added to this illusion). Kura knew the area somewhat, and had a small indentation in the nearby rock face which she had called her own for a fortnight prior to her induction into the colony at Yellowknife. There were still MREs, water jugs, several large containers of antiviral disinfectant solution, a portable chemist's kit, and all her best mechanical components tucked away there. She intended to collect them into her over sized backpack and return to the collective... but part of her was tempted to stay. It would take several trips as it was... why not make trips to the colony to procure more sustenance instead? It wasn't as if there was any promise in staying with the colony... all of her basic survival needs would be met, but there was always that primal drive to continue the species. She had found no intelligent, fit, or otherwise suitable donors with which to procreate. Might as well give up on all of them. But... maybe she hadn't given them a proper chance to prove themselves? She pondered this dilemma as she made her way quietly to the rocky overhang, glancing at the sickly yellow sickle of the moon hanging ominously on a starless and dirty brown-black horizon. ~~ Strig's eyes snapped open. Blood, meat, food, blood, heartbeat on the breeze, food! "Be quiet!" He hissed at himself. With effort, he forced the hunger to subside, and silenced the hunter's monologue that had once again disturbed his sleep. "Not every warm body constitutes a meal" He quoted from his father's teachings. "Let them prove themself." He repeated this twice more to himself, letting the familiar words encourage his brain to take the reigns, rather than his stomach. Removing himself from his mothballed excuse for a bed, Strig sniffed the air. Someone was indeed approaching, alone, the wind at their back. They smelled... nicer? than usual, maybe? There on the one hand was the smell of meat, which prevailed always from the direction of the Yellowknife colony, but this was newer, closer, different, pleasantly different, unknown, approaching... No, passing close by... maybe. Strig dressed himself, feeling abruptly glad of this development. His food stocks were starting to deplete themselves, if this was another raider or general purpose meaty malefactor than he would slit their throat and sate himself upon them. If not, well then it would be nice to have someone to talk to for a while. He would bid them good morning, explain away his serrated teeth, assure them he meant them no harm and probably get a gun pointed at him for his trouble. 'I'll kill you if you come any closer!' was all he ever seemed to hear from most people, and they always seemed so surprised when he turned and walked away. "A good start to the day." He muttered to himself. "One way or the other." And thus he set out from the empty, ruined village that was his home, following his nose towards this nearby wayfarer. ~~ Once she reached her little alcove, she tore open an MRE for supper. Or, perhaps this was breakfast? Why put a name to meals? Such a strange custom. It was something called "beef creole" which she had never cared for, but always had loved the cheese packets and large crackers it came with. Apparently, there was also a packet of berry cobbler, which was also a nice surprise. She settled into a dusty corner, her large night-vision goggles aiding her in search of that elusive "tear here" notch in the bag. She paused for a moment, head snapping upward in alarm. She thought she heard the thump of footsteps. Large footsteps. Shambling, almost. The unmistakable gate of one contaminated. Specters? Here? But she hadn't seen any contaminated humans for kilometers! And, they normally traveled in packs, didn't they? She dropped the MRE, grasping for the lever on her back pack. If it was danger, she knew how to protect herself. No time to lead it away from her store of supplies. Her back was against the wall. Quite literally. ~~ She'd noticed him. (The scent of female was now unmistakable). Her heartbeat had sped up, the pounding in his ears was consistent with prey close to flight. No one had ever caught him out so soon before, no one save for the odd spectre, but those were fights, not hunts, and this was no spectre. The smell was all wrong. She will run, run, run away and you will run after her and snap her in two and eat of... Strig nearly snarled at his own brain, but that would only give the wrong impression to whoever it was he had followed, and he was becoming less inclined to think that this was a viable food creature he'd tracked down. He had to speak to her, even if it was only to shout 'hello' at her back as she charged away. He had to get close enough. With his fanged mouth fully closed, and his clawed hands stuffed into his hole riddled trousser pockets, Strig continued onwards. It wasn't long before he noticed a flash of greenish hair in the distance. He stopped. The distance made her barely a stick figure to his eyes, stood against a rock face. He could tell that she was staring at him. If he simply walked towards her, she could so easily draw a weapon and dispatch him. He was in plain view, his natural weapons would avail him none. The smart thing to do would be to turn back, not to risk a potentially fatal provocation, wait for the next non-food person to pass his way. Yes, that was the sensible option. He started to walk towards her. ~~ As the specter neared, Kura clenched the lever with force. She was tempted to just yank it, but she wasn't entirely sure if this was, indeed, a contaminant. She hesitantly flipped down the next set of goggle-lenses with a quivering hand. The thing was crawling with various bacteria and a macrocosm of microorganisms... but nary was there a trace of the H16N9 Virus. She drew her hand away from the lever bit by bit. It may be a lost member of the colony. She flipped down her second set of lenses, and was able to identify the being as a male. She also identified dried blood on his only garment- a very torn and ragged pair of trousers. He may be injured. Possibly weakened by malnutrition and dehydration. Then she heard the thing grunt with an animal's voice. Her hand shot back to the lever. There was really only one answer to this strange situation. She had to hail the man. "G...greetings!" she called with a wavering, tiny voice. "Are... a-are you injured?" ~~ EAT HER! "No!" Strig screamed, his hands flying to his head. He couldn't stop himself this time. For so long with only himself to talk to, such utterances and gestures were inevitable. The small woman jumped and her hand shot to a lever on her backpack. A weapon of some kind to be sure. "Wait!" He said, fighting a sudden stabbing pain in his stomach. Fool, fool foolsie Strig moron putz. You've wandered into the wastes on an empty stomach and now here you stand with a nice, non-nasty human feline person before you. Can you imagine how this will end? I can. Heeeeeeeee "Forgive me." He said, stepping backwards. "I am, not injured, exactly. I just..." How ill equipped he was for this. His stomach screaming at him, his brain devoid of any introductory sentences. Well, his rational mind said to itself. Naught for it but to be honest. "I smel... uh, noticed you from my village, some miles back from where I walked. I wanted to meet you, as I meet all who pass my way. Forgive me my strange manner, I mean you no harm." Another stabbing pain in his gut. He could smell the blood beneath her skin. Hear it coursing through her veins, smell the warm meat on her bones. Unless another meal presented himself and quickly, he would have to flee. Or else his instincts would take over. ~~ She jolted when the man screamed a negative, in answer to her query. Her hand shot to the lever and tugged lightly, in reaction. At least he was not injured... and at least somewhat sentient. That verified he was not a H16N9 contaminant. "Wait!" he shouted next. So, Kura waited. For what, she did not know. Her breath was still more rapid than normal, and her surge of adrenaline was still causing her knees to twitch and hands to shake. "Forgive me." the man said, stepping back. "I am, not injured, exactly. I just..." Another pause. Kura ascertained that he was, indeed, malnourished/dehydrated. His emaciated torso, gaunt face, drastically chapped and peeling lips, and ragged breath were all clear signs. A strange sensation crept over the back of her psyche. She felt the need to help him. "I smel... uh, noticed you from my village, some miles back from where I walked. I wanted to meet you, as I meet all who pass my way. Forgive me my strange manner, I mean you no harm." he rasped. Kura's hand dropped from the lever, and she bent cautiously to pick up the MRE she had been trying to open moments ago. "I have sustenance." she held up the package. "Approximately four thousand calories... and some electrolyte replenishment packets for water." She slid her heavy backpack from her shoulders, stepping forward with the MRE outstretched in one small, white hand. ~~ With the last strength that his mind possessed, Strig resisted the urge to snatch at the food that this woman offered him. Now that alternate sustenance was available, the panic subsided, giving him clarity enough to be civil. "Thank you." He said quietly, reaching out ever so slowly towards her small hand with his own, taloned equivalent. With methodical slowness, he plucked the MRE in the same way as a lethargic marsh harrier might snatch a slumbering weasel. "Thank you." He said again, sighing with relief. Then, turning his back, he knelt to the floor and promptly set to the annihilation of his meal. He tried not to be indecent or noisy, but with food finally available there was only so much he could do to restrain himself. Strig tore at it all, forcing the life giving food down his throat, ripping larger pieces to ribbons with his fangs, and he downed each electrolyte replenishment packet in rapid succession. When this was done he sat very still for a good few moments. In that time, his skin seemed to grow every so slightly less pale. His breathing grew more steady, and the involuntary growling that accompanied one too many breaths ceased. When he stood back up he was relieved to see that she was still there, observing him through those peculiar goggles of hers. With the hunger pushed back to ignorable levels, he could finally look upon this woman without seeing a potential meal. Though, rather annoyingly, his sense of chivalry was also somewhat restored and it compelled him not to stare too closely, or for too long. She had saved his life, or her own, or both. She had saved either herself or himself from becoming a murderer. Strig's eyes began to flare with anger and he closed them tightly. What a fucking fool he'd been. Breakfast must never be missed for any reason, in case starvation lead to madness as had so very nearly happened. His father had told him that day after day. It was a matter of life or death and he had forsaken this golden rule so that he might chase after some mystery scent just because it smelled 'different from food' somehow. Forgive me. He said silently to his late father's spirit, wherever it may be. His eyes reopened. "Thank you." He said again. "I... I am in your debt." ~~ Kura watched with only minor trepidation as the poor starved thing ate. She observed, with the inventiveness of a scientist, the odd mutations (evolutionary mutations?) to his teeth and fingernails. He must have been born a carnivore. He was, in essence, a new species of homo sapiens sapiens- well, now... homo sapiens carovius? She'd think of it later. Fascinating find. She had tried several times to offer him water, but he apparently didn't even notice. She tried to object as he ate the electrolyte powder from the packets... worried that he would choke. He would need hydration with the amount of sodium he was consuming. She gave up trying to quench his thirst, and began searching for a jug of general disinfectant and a rag. The specimen was filthy, and she needed to properly cleanse him in order to properly note and document the extent of his mutations. She found both items, donned some rubber gloves, and returned just as the man-thing was finishing off the packet of berry cobbler. He looked up at her with sorrowful greenish eyes, dark in the infected moonlight, and thanked her. Kura was somewhat taken aback. She did what any biologist would have done when encountering a new specie, and hoped to perform a successful biopsy in future. She was merely keeping him alive. She was touched, though. She felt a minor twinge at the back of her eye, as if she might tear up. "No need to thank. I have more, should you require it. I suggest you wait an hour, though... to prevent vomiting. You must digest. Starvation needs time to fix. If you were to eat too much, it would all come back up. Do you understand my speech?" She didn't wait long for his reply. She merely thrust a full canteen into his talons and bid him drink. Then she set about splashing his back with disinfectant and scrubbing away. ~~ Hahahahahahaha, she's touching you in places! If Strig could have ripped out that damned inner voice he would have done so at the age of six. (In fact he had tried but thankfully his father had intervened before the young meat-eater had done himself an irrevocable mischief.) The fact of the matter was, the woman was not touching him at all but was splashing his myriad scars with some foul smelling medicinal liquid and was scrubbing at his cadaverous torso with a rather less-than-smooth rag. He had little to no idea why she was doing this, but felt little inclination to complain, no matter how often it stung. Her heartbeat had slowed, she wasn't afraid, or was barely afraid at least. That was rare. That was... excellent. For the moment she seemed fixated on her work... on him. Though Strig wanted very much to turn and look at her again, to introduce himself and learn her name, and to find some way to repay all that she had done for him, he forced himself to keep still, as it appeared to be what she wanted. The water she had given him was gone in seconds. He felt infinitely better for it. From what he could discern, this green haired non-food person was definitely a scientist. Her goggles and other devices connoted inventor but her ministrations upon his... self, connoted a doctor. Either way she was a woman of the sciences. There was an old and crumbling library in his village. There were books there, things his father had bid him read. Most of the non-fiction texts had meant nothing to him, and to read them was a chore. If she wanted them though, they would be hers. Hell, he would give her the entire building if she wished it, and would even clear out all the rat colonies beforehand. He would make the offer once she was finished, in the meantime he stood still and let her work. ~~ She moved around to his front, scrubbing from shoulders to gaunt chest. His ribs felt like a washboard under the cloth she used. Kura was never one for conversation, but certain questions needed to be asked- as she was dealing with a sentient specimen. And perhaps conversation would ease the awkward emotion springing up in her stomach. His claws alone gave her pause... She worried also he might turn on her. That may have been the paranoid survivalist in her... but science is a dire mistress. Curiosity pressed the cat onward. "Where did you come from? Were you wandering the desert?" she asked as she cleaned off his pitifully thin stomach. She noted his reply, scrubbing off an arm. "Do you know how many years you have been alive?" again, noting his response, she scrubbed at his neck and matted, greasy hair. Disgust was not among her usual demeanors. She gagged slightly at the smell. My Beloved Monster and Me "Do or did you have parents with mutations like your own?" Washing, washing, washing. Layers of dirt, blood and dead skin were removed. She wiped his face briskly so he would be able to speak soon afterward. She paused, seeing his sharp teeth when he spoke. She dropped the rag, removing her gloves, and peered with interest into his mouth. She lifted his upper lip with two fingers, and pushed her goggles to her forehead. "Why... that's simply fascinating! You're truly carnivorous, aren't you?" She pulled at his cheek a bit, shining a mini flashlight into his mouth to see his lack of molars or bicuspids. His teeth were almost canine in nature. She then let go of his mouth and focused on his eyes. She noted the smaller-than-normal irises and dilated pupils with rapt interest. She shone the light into one, watching the pupil contract sluggishly. This caused her to scuttle off to find a notepad and jot furiously her findings. ~~ She had ceased scrubbing at his back and now worked on his chest, which if anything felt even worse. Blood, bruises, stains and the like were far more abundant about his ribs, and they did not leave peacefully. Strig's arms hung limply at his sides, his clawed hands twitching reflexively with each stinging ministration. For a long time she continued to work in silence whilst he made an effort to keep still, reflecting quietly on the strange turn of events the day had taken. He was well aware of the excessive grooming habits of cats, but this did seem a little... unconventional. That said, she was achieving better results than he had ever managed with just sand and old printer paper to work with. "Where did you come from?" She asked suddenly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Were you wandering the desert?" She was cleaning his stomach now. It seemed ironic somehow to have her hand so close to, and yet outside, his stomach lining. "I come from a village, or what used to be a village, about five miles up that way." He pointed behind him. "The surrounding miles I use for hunting mainly, or sometimes I explore further afield." She nodded three times in rapid succession. Soon she was dabbing more disinfectant on his right arm, which he held outstretched for her. "Do you know how many years you have been alive?" She asked. "20 years, give or take." She peered at him for a moment, seemingly trying to confirm this, and then nodded again, moving the rag to his neck. After this she started on his hair. This didn't appear to be a task she was relishing, considering the revulsion she was making a strong effort to conceal. "Do or did you have parents with mutations like your own?" "Yhhs, muh..." Strig gave up trying to speak around the cloth that was now assailing his face and waited as the grime was extracted from his pale pate. When she was finished, he started again. "Yes, my father was exactly like me. I'm not sure how far these mutations go back though. I don't think my mother was like this, my father rarely spoke of her; she died when I was born." As the last word left his lips, Strig found two fingers being pushed into his upper lip. The next thing he knew the woman was peering at his teeth through her goggles. BITE Shut up. She examined his teeth thoroughly, finding a rather surprising interest in them. Normally they elicited dread and fear in other people, not curiosity. Granted the dread-stricken and afrighted normally found his fangs in their throats, but all the same it was peculiar to have his teeth, his natural weapons, being examined in this fashion. "Why... that's simply fascinating! You're truly carnivorous, aren't you?" She said lightly. "Indeed. Though I do eat other things, fruit and the like. Meat is what fuels me though, that's what I'm... built to ingest, I guess." Next she shone that flashlight of hers straight into his eyes, which was rather painful truth to tell but he decided not to make an issue of it. When this was done she hurried over to where her backpack lay and tore through its pockets until she found a notebook, wherein she began to scribble down, presumably, all she had just learned about him. Strig had never before been the centre of such attention. The idea that his physiology should be of such interest was more than a little mystifying to him. He was what he was, and what he was always seemed very straightforward to him. Then again, perhaps he was overlooking something. Perhaps there was some wider importance relating his mutations which he could not see. Either way, what harm was there in letting himself be scrubbed and prodded in the name of discovery? Though he was reluctant to break the smoothly flowing routine that had seemingly come out of nowhere, there was one matter that really did need seeing to. "My name is Strig." He said simply, extending a hand, his fingers bent back to keep his claws out of the way. "Nice to meet you." ~~ Kura looked up from her notes, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. "oh." She was somewhat surprised that she had forgotten the human custom of introduction in greeting. Embarrassment was not the most understood emotion in her repertoire, but now she blushed lightly... and her cheeks were a candy pink in the early light of sunrise. "Kuramidi." and she hesitated before extending a thin hand. Strig looked at her hand for a moment before taking it in his and squeezing it lightly. His rough skin made hers tingle, as it caused brief friction. She blushed deeper and pulled back her hand. She tried to focus on her notes, but was distracted by her sudden accelerated heartbeat. She also felt the ghost of a fever... Was this to do with the next step in her initial inspection of the specimen? Surely not! Such exterior biopsies were common. She had performed them on other specimens... though those were certainly not humanoid... Nor as finely toned with such sinuous muscle... She shook her head, pulling off her goggles, fanning herself briefly with her notepad. "Right... yes... alright, then." she set her notes aside, rising and pulling the specimen to his feet as well. "Strig, then. I... will be conducting an exterior biopsy. You are a unique sub-species of homo sapiens, and I would like to observe and log as much data as possible about you. Do you concur?" He nodded, somewhat slowly, and with a creased brow. Kura donned her surgical gloves once more, and produced a clean rag and a new bottle of disinfectant. She finished wiping clean his torso, and frowned at his poor, tattered trousers. She should have been able to conduct her study with her usual scientific ease... but for some reason her pulse was pounding in her ears... and she felt somewhat lightheaded. Her hands had lost some of their dexterity, she realized, as she removed her surgical gloves. Her breath quickened as she unbuttoned his fly with a little difficulty. For the first time in her life- she'd been having many firsts this early morning- she had to command herself to maintain control. To concentrate. For some reason, so simple a task was causing a very prominent and very uncontrollable physical reaction. She bit her lip and breathed inward as she tugged the tattered garment downward... ~~ For a second she looked at him as if he'd just asked what 'Tuesday' meant. "Oh." She said, blushing slightly. Strig could smell the blood in her cheeks, but again it smelt... different. Not like food somehow. It, and all of her, had started to elicit responses from some part of him unconnected with the digestive system. Some part he knew not what exactly. "Kuramidi." She said, slowly extending her hand towards his. It looked so frail by comparison that Strig momentarily feared snapping it clean off, but when he clasped it, such silly fears gave way as he registered its warmth, its softness, smoothness, the feel of each of her fingertips tracing their way incrementally across the side of his own hand. It took a strong force of effort to release it. Kuramidi. A name at last to put to the face of the most fascinating and pleasant of creatures that had ever passed by his territory. Her blush deepened, the smell of blood increased. The smell did not force open his sinuses and set his hunter's senses alight however, as was ever the case before. He wasn't having to fight against himself anymore, what was going on? Her heartbeat was speeding up again, so for that matter was his. Strig tried to keep still, sat on the ground as he was. He tried to retain his visage of collected nonchalance whilst at the same time trying to figure out what was happening to him. Why his body was reacting in this strange fashion to this woman who had somehow rendered herself immune to his hungers. To one of his hungers at least. Oh. She was continually flicking glances his way, her note taking seemed far less zealous than it had a minute ago. She was distracted, her body temperature was increasing. Soon she abandoned her writing and started to fan herself with the pad. Her goggles she had forsaken. Just the desert sun. Strig thought, trying to forestall his thought processes and steel himself against the growing excitement. "Right...yes...alright, then." She dropped the notepad, and then took hold of his wrists, pulling him up with her as she stood. He almost reached out then and there, he wanted to pull her towards him, he wanted to... "Strig, then. I... will be conducting an exterior biopsy. You are a unique sub-species of homo sapiens, and I would like to observe and log as much data as possible about you. Do you concur?" Strig nodded slowly. The effort it was taking now to keep still, to remain calm, was almost harder than it had been when his mind screamed at him to eat her. Now his instincts were screaming something else, but it was too soon... he couldn't tell how she... Taking in two deep breaths, Strig started to mentally repeat to himself choice sentences from a favorite book from the library back in his village. This distraction helped a little as Kuramidi pulled surgical gloves over her hands. To picture what was... what he thought was about to happen would send his mind off in half a hundred unwise directions. He needed to stay focused, stay decent, maintain situational awareness and not lose control. He forced his mind back to the book as Kuramidi stepped back towards him. The title of the time-worn tome had been all but lost, 'Avaro...' something. Evidently it was the winner of the National Book Award, whatever that was back in its day. She scrubbed some more at his torso, this action bringing his attempted self-distraction to an abrupt end. Her ministrations were finishing off the more persistent bits of filth and blood. This done, she cast her eyes downwards at his trousers. Her initial speed and efficiency had waned, her hand slipped past the rag on occasion now, her gloved fingers gliding against his skin. Her heartbeat was still quickened, her temperature still slightly elevated. She removed her gloves with unsteady hands, hands that then set to work unbuttoning his fly. Exterior biopsy. Strig's brain repeated over and over. Exterior biopsy. She bit her lip and breathed inward as she tugged the tattered garment downward. Strig stepped out of it, feeling oddly tempted to grab the tattered garment and throw it far away. The whim passed, and he stood still and completely naked before her. He was no stranger to nakedness, nor even to quasi-public nudity, but there was something about this time which was so very different. He could feel her eyes on him and he waited, half uncomfortably, half excitedly, seeming to await her analysis, or should that be her conclusion? ~~ She felt such a surge of... she didn't even know what, but it forced her to turn away in girlish embarrassment. Her face felt hot, now. No mere blush this time. She was positively flushed. Stop it! Get a hold of yourself! Routine exterior biopsy! Separate yourself from your own organic idiosyncrasies! She realized then that, yes... this man-creature had actually caused a hormonal reaction in her. She gasped to herself in disbelief. Never. She cleared her throat, collecting herself, and looked back to the task at hand. That's what it was. A task. She'd just be fooling herself should she allow herself to feel... ... somewhat slick betwixt the thighs... CONCENTRATE, DAMN YOU! She found it, however, hard to ignore physical reactions. Like the one he was having at the moment... He was not as filthy below the belt as he had been everywhere else. Kura had no idea what circumcision was, (Grey's Anatomy and other such medical journals she had read revealed no image to discern between pre-procedure and post) but the male sex looked nothing like it had in textbooks. It was much thicker, for example... and longer than she had expected. She set her rag on her knee, splashing some of the gentler disinfectant on the... area... and decided to cleanse without the aid of the rag for the time being. She remembered that such areas were more... sensitive. Using slow strokes, she smoothed her gloved hand down the length of the phallus, pausing for a moment in fascination as this movement pulled back the foreskin. Fascinating stuff, I tell you. The end was a darker red than the surrounding flesh, and she grazed her finger against it. She giggled when the whole thing jerked in reaction to this simple touch. Like any good scientist, she repeated the experiment to see if it produced the same result, and giggled again when it did. What in the name of trigonometry are you doing?? She cleared her throat again, continuing the cleansing. She scrubbed gently at his soft, thick brush of pubic hair, gingerly massaged exterior contaminants from the testes... Then, she recovered the rag, splashed his left leg with solution, and resumed her scrubbing. ~~ Reach out, grab, take her, feel, flesh, reach, skin, pale, hers. It was remarkable how swiftly Strig's inner voice had switched from a dietary prompter to a largely inarticulate and rather questionable sex therapist. The heat coming from Kuramidi matched his own, this wasn't just the desert's influence, she was far too practical a creature to be caught out by simple dehydration. Her heat, her heartbeat, her mood, they all matched his own. Ever since she first started scrubbing away at him, Strig had been trying to fight against the inevitable erection. It seemed the decent thing to do. Trying to fight it away now, however, was an utterly hopeless endeavor. She splashed the strangely cool disinfectant against his groin and, with her gloved hand, rubbed it tentatively about his penis. He gasped, it was a human sound for once. In his adolescence Strig had found more than his fair share of adult material in the village. Erotic literature at the library, magazines hidden in shoeboxes under the beds of the teenage boys of old. He had looked upon all of these relics and with his right hand did do the things that boys do. Nothing he had done in those days could compare to what was happening now. His body was starting to shake, he felt excited, and to keep standing still felt abruptly wrong. The fact that his hands were not touching Kuramidi in turn felt... wrong. There was still a sliver of scientific curiosity in her face. With one probing finger she poked at the abruptly exposed flesh beneath the foreskin. It stung, but his excitement only grew. It was, he conceded, lucky that it was only him who had clawed hands. She did it again, and she was giggling. It was a lovely sound, it was... encouraging. At that point Kuramidi seemed to collect herself somewhat. She cleared her throat, lost her smile and started to work more collectedly on his scrotum, after this she moved to his left leg. The last of Strig's control crumbled. After what she had just done, he could no longer stand about and let himself be handled in... lesser places. He wanted her, and that impulse, that need, had taken hold. Almost before he knew what he was doing, he dropped to the floor. Kuramidi looked up just in time to see his face move towards hers. Strig pressed his forehead against hers, wrapping one hand around her clothed back and burying the other in her smooth, green hair. He was growling softly, continuously; for all the world like a predator trying to attract a mate. His hands moved gently, claws bent backwards, around the back of her head and torso. He found the fasteners and straps on her clothing. He could disrobe her, he could keep a hold of her and ensure that she couldn't wriggle free... but he wouldn't, not unless she wanted him too. If she preferred she could drive an ardent knee into his nuts and make a run for it. He could feel her heartbeat, faster than ever before, with his own chest. For what seemed like hours, though it was in fact barely a question of minutes, the two stood there, him waiting for confirmation or rejection, and she... ~~ ... and she squeaked, suddenly unable to breathe. Her face went a rather deep shade of pink, and she blinked several times in disbelief. Her heart no longer felt human. It was a small rabbit's heart, thrumming with vibration in lieu of it's normal measured cadence. She indeed felt like trapped prey, awaiting death at the teeth of a large cat. And yet... She allowed a moment to realize he was not really harming her. His claws were sheathed. His hand was at the back of her head instead of around her delicate neck. She shuddered a breath, trembling madly. Her knees felt as if they must give out at any moment. And... his... organ... was pressed against her belly. She felt its insistent solidity there... Pressed to the exterior of her very womb. The implications... Great Tesla! The implications! Thinking about this caused a very cold flush that began in her throat and dropped heavily into her stomach, there birthing a large swarm of butterflies. Oh, dear God... I don't believe in you, but oh... dear.... God... She could feel a trickle of warmth run down her inner thigh. At first she thought she had urinated in terror.... but no.... dear.... God... She tried to push at his chest, as that's where her gloved hands were pinned... but she had no strength. She couldn't get away. Of the choices fight, flight or freeze... she was frozen. And maybe unknowingly hesitant. ~~ Seconds passed and Strig felt no resistance from her, the delicate hands pressed against his chest did not push him away, she did not writhe in his grasp or cry out. She had frozen, not unlike a prey creature in reach of his talons, but unlike a prey creature, he could smell excitement from her, not just fear. He could hear it in her heartbeat, see it in her wide eyes. He lowered her down on the desert sand, laying himself atop her. Her face was an incessant flurry of ambivalence. One second her eyes were closed, her head straining to turn away, and in the next she was staring at him full on, biting her lip, almost smiling, he thought. Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away from her. She might run, but he could catch her. He would catch her now if he had to. His instincts could no longer be denied. She lay shaking on the ground as he hesitantly pulled himself back, admiring her prone form. Christ, she is beautiful. He pulled off her boots and stockings, tracing his hands up her pale legs, savouring the feel of her skin. She gasped when one hand snaked its way underneath the black dress she wore, exploring the wet flesh underneath whilst his other hand gently pulled away the straps on her shoulders. Before he peeled away the garment, he kissed her. It was a deep, passionate hungry action, almost instinctual. With both hands, Strig pulled Kuramidi upwards slightly and pulled her dress down the length of her body, uncovering her breasts. He could not help but growl approvingly at the sight of them, and leave one hand to feel them as, with the other, he pulled away her hat, gloves and underwear, leaving her utterly naked before him. My Beloved Monster and Me ~~ Don't move... don't move... you'll provoke him... Even as she thought this, she knew she would have to move. She would have to move or risk... she paled to think of it. She had never... never experienced what she had read about with a scholar's fascination. She knew it would hurt, and she was not prepared and... she was unnerved by her own unwitting arousal. Matters were made worse when he lowered her to the ground... but so gently... And he began to disrobe her... Don't move... you'll provoke him and he'll kill you... She gasped when one hand snaked its way underneath her skirts, grazing her moistened, delicate flower of flesh through her undergarment... She could feel his claws graze her shoulders as he removed the straps... She wasn't just panting now, she was hyperventilating. Panic. Flee. Run! She felt so helpless... so vulnerable... he pulled the last of her modesty from her trembling, feverish body, and she instinctively covered her small, plump breasts, lip quivering. If you don't move, you'll die anyway. He'll eat you. He'll eat you WHILE he's trying to inseminate you. Savage... beast! But... she didn't completely believe that... And yet, it was enough to make her drop a hand to the sand, exposing one of her pert, red nipples. He leaned in, apparently to get a closer look... And she flung a handful of sand into his face, stumbling to her bare feet and running as fast as she could in a direction undetermined. ~~ Strig recoiled, one hand flew to his eyes and a pained growl escaped his throat. He heard Kuramidi's scuffling and then faint footfalls on the sand. She was sprinting away from him. Despite the stinging in his eyes, Strig could not help but part with a grin. Hunt. Strig was a born hunter, so many times in the past he had chased down fleeing ruffians or prey beasts, and never once had one escaped. The difference of course was that all before had wound up in his stomach, but she... He had not expected this, he had smelled her arousal, he had felt it, seen it, it was unmistakable. Did she still think he would try and eat her? Whatever the case, she had left her clothes behind and forsaken all her gear, she was simply fleeing. That was a mistake. Watching her naked form vanish into the distance through his reddened eyes, Strig hastened over to her backpack and procured himself another of her packaged meals for the road. It would be a shame to work up an appetite and get tempted. This done, he was about to set off after her but... What was this? Strig hooked his fingers around a thin length of rope and pulled it free of her backpack. Presumably she used it for climbing or some similar outdoors purpose. He curled it into a series of hoops and placed it over his shoulder. He could make use of this. Thus prepared, he started to pursue, but not too quickly. Half the fun of a hunt was the chase, and why let it end so quickly? When she turned her head and noticed him coming after her, her already frantic heartbeat accelerated and her bare legs gained speed. She turned left, towards the rock face and soon Strig noticed why; there was a cave built into it, carved out by centuries of erosion presumably. He didn't know how large it was, or whether it was a dead end or not, but to anyone fleeing from a hunter, relying on their survival instincts, that cave represented cover. His pace quickened; it might be that the cave was a dead-end, that she would trap herself by fleeing there. Or it might be a serpentine maze of tunnels, wherein he might lose her utterly. He was soon sprinting, his long, well trained legs closing the distance between them easily. ~~ Heavy footsteps. He's gaining. All her useful, analytical tact was lost in a blinding rush of adrenaline. She gasped hoarsely, tender bare feet colliding painfully with hard-packed sand and dirt with every footfall. The sun blinded her as it breached the flat horizon. She winced, shading her eyes from it, and looked back. Fresh panic bloomed in her chest, and she fought frantically to think. He would catch her if she continued running. The sunlight revealed a cave, just ahead. She would have more chance of survival in hiding than naked out in the open desert. Thus, she hastily ducked into the smooth concave. She felt around blindly for a recess... possibly even a drop-hole. The smooth wall only continued back and back. Light dimmed. Her heart pounded out any other sound save her ragged breath. She couldn't hear him as he stole stealthily up behind her... The smooth wall sloped into a smooth end. She felt desperately, hands quaking. There was no flaw in the horizontal dome that made the end of her only refuge. She fell to her knees, as they had failed her and gone uselessly weak. She sobbed her rapid breaths, eyes rolling sightlessly. She couldn't see. She strained to hear. She jolted as she heard the sound of shifting earth. She could feel the air he displaced on her back and arms. She could feel his breath. She cried out, turning quickly and flailing her slender arms at empty air. She shuffled forward, and managed to snag flesh with her short nails. She heard a grunt of pain, and her wrists were seized with rough strength. ~~ The cave had proven to be an ideal trap for his pr... for Kuramidi. Just ten feet away he could see her desperately scrabbling at the stone wall, looking for some avenue of escape. There was none however, and soon her exhausted legs gave out from under her, her breaths were ragged and she looked more than a little disoriented. He had her. Strig walked slowly towards her, reached out his hands to grab her arms... And with a last surge of strength she turned and begun to slash about wildly with her nails. Surprised by this, Strig reacted too slowly to stop her from tearing at his chest. The scratch was a small one, but did draw a little blood. With a pained grunt, Strig's hands snapped out and grabbed Kuramidi's thin wrists. She struggled against his grasp, but was powerless to stop him from turning her around and pulling her back against him, her wrists still held firm at her sides. He was distracted for a moment as he felt her body press against his as she tried to break free, pushing against him and then pulling away. Finally however, he lowered her slowly down onto the stone floor and held her hands tightly together behind her back. His grip was firm, but not rough. Her legs were flailing all the while, trying to kick him, but without success. Holding Kuramidi's wrists with one hand, Strig took the rope from over his shoulder with the other and began to weave it around her wrists. Her struggling only intensified, but pinned as she was, she would be going nowhere. Soon her hands were tightly bound. Strig allowed himself to watch her writhe and fight against her bonds for a while, running his hand down the length of her back and over her buttocks, savouring the feel of her skin, before finally rolling her onto her back. ~~ Mindless panic had seized her thought process, and she struggled against his grasp even though she knew there was no physical probability of escape. Her body arched against his... both naked forms now dewy with sweat... and their breaths were synchronized for a moment. For one brief second... his erect organ was pressed to the slick lips of her entrance... and her panic broke. She tightened, almost expecting... But then he lowered her to the floor and bound her wrists. She struggled again, but quite a bit of her initial terror had subsided. She felt his touch... his fingertips tracing her outline... she shivered slightly in... what? In want? Nay. Never. Scientists don't have that problem. She never believed in copulation which didn't serve a biological purpose. And this is why, when he turned her over, she heaved her torso up and bit him on the side of the neck. She then used his moment of surprise to flip over and wriggle to her knees... ~~ Strig growled, the blunt omnivore teeth in his neck causing far more pain than he would have thought possible. Kuramidi wasted no time in retracting her jaws, pulling away and shuffling to her knees whilst he grasped his wounded neck. There was no blood at least. His teeth bared and his eyes angry, Strig snapped his head around to see Kuramidi, her hands still bound, struggling to her feet. She started to run but he quickly shot out a hand and grabbed her ankle, pulling it out from under her. She fell forwards, but in his next motion he reached out and caught her before she struck the floor. For a moment she simply hung there, outstretched, one of his arms wrapped around her stomach. His other hand was clasped around her left breast, he wasting no time in exploring every inch of it. He lent forward, opening his jaws and pressing his teeth ever so gently into her shoulder, not enough to prick skin or even hurt particularly, just enough to unnerve her. He snarled in grim satisfaction as he felt her fear escalate. She felt warm, her body was covered with sweat, the smell of her, so close now, charged up his nostrils and screamed in his brain, only adding to his frenzy. Slowly, he turned her around again, holding her shoulders down so she could not leap up and bite him this time. He stared into her eyes for a moment, half satisfied and half saddened by what he saw there. It barely mattered now though, nothing could detract from the chaos in his mind. There was nothing, nothing except her and his need to have her. ~~ She gasped for breath. She was so sure he was going to bite a chunk out of her shoulder... but she remained unharmed. She blinked up at him now, lying on her back. He didn't mean to harm her? That made no logical sense. He wasn't trying to force coitus, either. She was perplexed. She relented her struggling and waited. Her bonds pained her, her own nylon cord cutting into her delicate wrists. She realized she should feel exposed... should feel as vulnerable as she had felt mere minutes ago... and only felt hot blush searing her body. She glanced down... and sighted his thick, hooded phallus. It was moving slightly with his pulse. Had he so much restraint? His body was prepared for mating... and yet... She tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, realizing again her thighs were slaked with her own unwitting preparation... Her body had betrayed her. She thought frantically for a moment. Maybe she could get out of this after all. "S... Strig? Can you release me now? I'll get you more sustenance... I'll finish cleaning you, if you like... We could go to the community... Strig? Can you hear me?" She looked up into those unreadable, glazed predator's eyes. He merely stared at her hungrily, breathing deeply through bared teeth. Her teal brows furrowed. "...Strig?" ~~ "St........ ou re.......... now? I'll........enan......... cl..........go to............ can ......... me?" Strig could hear nothing but a pounding angry noise in his brain, driving him. The self restraint which he had exhibited upon first meeting her, when he forced himself not to eat her, not to appear as some murderous man-beast, had changed now. He held himself back only to drive his frenzy to it's limits. He relished the fear on her face. She was trapped prey in his talons, beautiful and helpless, hers to do with as he pleased. "Strig?" He answered with a deafening growl, half triumphant, half hungry. So many years of waiting, and now... Holding her shoulders tightly, he stood up, pulled her to her feet and pushed her back against the smooth wall. She struggled, though not quite so tenaciously as before. Lifting her so that her breasts were in line with his face, Strig lent forward. He tasted the skin of each and savoured the feel of them against his skin. He then held her hard nipples between his fangs and teased and tasted them with his tongue. He had no presence of mind to hear her, whether she was panting or screaming or crying he could not know. It wasn't long before he lowered her down and, feeling with the tip of his penis for her slick, accommodating vagina, entered her. The first motion was a forceful thrust, he impaled her. He snarled as he withdrew slightly, then thrusted again, and again. He held her as tightly as he could. She was shaking, he could tell that much at least. Almost unconsciously, Strig removed himself from her and hurriedly lowered Kuramidi back onto the floor. He still held her firmly at the shoulders, pinning her down, and then he lowered himself on top of her and entered her again. He didn't notice as his jaws closed around her throat. It was an instinctive motion, automatic. When her head started to twist he grabbed her hair with one hand and held it firmly in place. He could feel the excitement in his groin grow with each motion. It hurt, but what did that matter? His teeth remained at her throat, he thought for a second that he could hear her, calling him, begging it almost sounded like. He ignored it, his body preferring to concentrate on his own reactions, and the feel of her nipples against his chest, her body pressing against his. Finally, he ejaculated. Warmth and pleasure flooded through him, weakening his muscles. He slumped forward onto Kuramidi's trembling body with a heavy exhalation. It was then he noticed where his teeth were. ~~ His response to her timid query was a reverberating growl not suited to a human larynx. She Squeaked, grimacing as he grabbed her and thrust her against the cave wall. Kura's little bare feet kicked at the sparse, loose soil till they were lifted from the floor. His strength pinned her there for his strange, oral examination of her pert areolas and reddened nipples. Her little feet fluttered helplessly against his knees. She emitted a breathless, wavering little cry... the madly tingling sensation he was causing with his pointed teeth and nimble tongue caused a tightening sensation deep in her gut... and part of her was slightly disappointed when he stopped. It was then that he let her body slide down the wall... He lowered her... his waiting organ nodding slightly with his pulse. Oh dear God this is it this is it he's going to... The thought of the word "inside" brought a fresh wave of butterflies sweeping up from her stomach. Entered. Forcefully. Invaded. Other words flew through her panicked little mind... But panic was so very close to anticipation... and excitement. And swiftly, her trembling void was filled. Filled to the stretching point. She was slid into with a sort of ease she had not expected. Her body had prepared for this... And quite independent of her mind, wanted this. Her little blue eyes went wide. Her little back arched against the wall. She exhaled. Never had she felt such interesting pain. The second thrust finished breaking down the wall of her virginity. She cried out, a strange little sound like "Oh," as if she'd found something particularly interesting in a book. She looked up into his face as he continued... Her lithe, pale body shivered of its own accord, her thighs quivering against his hips as he pistoned. She was still lost, and a little lightheaded when he lowered her quickly to the ground... and he entered her again. He resumed in this new position, exploring her at new angles... Slap. Slap. Slap. So... this... this is what mating is like? She became very thoughtful, and closed her eyes... She focused on that wondrous new sensation... of being filled so completely. She wished she could hold him still, just to feel that sensation without movement. Of feeling pulsing life within her. But suddenly, she didn't want any pause. His rapid pummeling of her innermost wall was causing a strange... sweeping... sensation, like a wave of... the first word that came to her lightheaded thoughts was "sunlight". And the wave crashed upon her. She tensed around him, tightening, her thighs clamped around his waist. She sighed, a sound most effeminate and somewhat alien to the boy's ears. She sighed yes and yes and please... She moaned more. And virgin's blood mingled pink with the girl's first release. Her climax was heightened by the sudden presence of teeth at her throat. The scientist was lost to the inner feline. It felt right. She felt rightly dominated, and gasped beneath his mouth. His jaws tightened their hold. She strained to breathe, turning her head, but a taloned hand seized her hair and held it in place. "Please... I... nnnhh.... I can't bre... I can't brea... nnnnhhhh ...... ahhhh....." Another wave took her as his pace quickened. Maddening, tingling, unbearable pleasure wiped clean her anxiety and she breathed the sounds of a lover. "S.... Strig... ohh... oh, Strig!" The intensity. The mind-melting intensity of her orgasm overcame her. It didn't end, it only rose and rose... Her entire body was a live wire. Every sensation heightened tenfold. Everywhere he touched her was bliss and bliss and ooohhh dear God.... And he thickened inside her, causing her to jolt. Heat streamed into her, filling her further. She giggled madly at this sensation, tightening around him like a vice; essentially, milking him of his life's elixir. He collapsed against her, teeth still lightly embedded in her slender neck. They panted together, both spent and thoroughly satisfied. Kura's ropes, which had been shoddily tied to begin with, had come loose near the end (due to the Strig's delphinic motions) and she draped her arms around his damp shoulders. She kissed his cheek, and sighed. They lay that way for some time... both reluctant to break the spell of lofty post-coital heaven. The sun had risen well above the horizon, and its rays dared not disturb the spent lovers in their secluded impromptu nest. After he had caught his breath, Strig finally removed his teeth from her throat... and their eyes met fully for the first time. There was just enough light for her to make out the adorable expression on his thin face. He was concerned. Kura felt at her neck, then looked at her fingers. Barely any blood. She replaced her arm about his neck and shook her head at him, grinning. "You didn't injure me... not severely..." Relief smoothed his handsome featured and he nuzzled her clavicle lovingly. She stroked his hair and sighed. "I suppose we're mated, then." she mused. ~~ Things got so very quiet. There was no blood hunger or insane, animalistic lust driving Strig now, nor was there the mocking voice that hounded him so often. There was only peace and silence. He was human again, so much as he could ever call himself that. His teeth were still locked around Kuramidi's neck, but he felt no impulse to bite down. This was, to him, just another way of holding her. An instinctive aspect of intimacy perhaps. It was with some surprise that his wearied brain realised she was holding him as well, her bonds having evidently come loose. He had expected more struggling from her, more biting. He had done what he'd done because he had to... no, because he couldn't stop himself. All his long taught self control had meant nothing when his attraction, his need for her took his mind. So he had taken her, and now he expected her to try and kill him. It didn't seem entirely unreasonable, but then why was she holding him? To add to this mystery, she lent forward and kissed him on the cheek, then lent back and sighed in pure contentment. Fresh adrenaline surged within Strig, along with something else which it took him several seconds to realise was hope. Had... had she enjoyed that? Did she... was she, and he... Christ. The slightest taste of salt and copper on his tongue had him draw his teeth back instantly. Hope gave immediate way to concern. He could smell more blood as well, along with other unknown fluids, from lower down. Had he wounded her when he entered her? Or was that supposed to happen? He had never done this before. He had no way to know. It was only race memory and instinct which had guided him during the deed in question. My Beloved Monster and Me What had he done? It couldn't be a mortal wound; that was impossible, it had to be... right? He looked, almost reluctantly, into her eyes. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but couldn't form the words. Evidently however the look of concern on his face was enough for her to discern his meaning. Kura checked her neck, noticed the small amount of blood and then wrapped that arm around his own neck. The feel of it there sent another wave of completely irrational joy surging through him, but it was nothing compared to what he felt when she smiled up at him. "You didn't injure me... not severely..." Relief came next. He smiled back down at her, and rubbed his nose against her shoulder gently, inhaling her scent. He felt her hand move through his unfamiliarly clean hair and it took all the self control he had not to purr as she did so. "I suppose we're mated, then." She said at one point. To which Strig's eyes widened. Mated? The word felt unreal, even after all this. He had always been a loner, a misanthropist by design almost. What women he saw tended to run away or open fire at him and, reluctantly, he had concluded that he was destined to be alone for all his life. Lord of an empty village, an urban legend in the Yellowknife meat-locker if he was lucky. A mate was unthinkable, or so he had thought. With a grin, which then developed into a booming laugh, Strig rolled himself onto his back, his arms dragging Kuramidi in a ninety degree arc which pulled her onto his chest. He looked into her eyes again for a moment and then lent forward to kiss her, mindful of his teeth of course. As their adrenaline ebbed away and the weariness caused by the chase, and what followed, caught up with them, the two began to drift off. Kuramidi fell asleep first, her head resting peacefully upon Strig's chest. He watched her small, slender body rise and fall for as long as he could, half worried to fall asleep in case he should wake up to find her gone for whatever reason. Distantly he thought that at some point they would have to walk back the way they had come, Kura would need to gather her supplies and whatnot, and he would, he supposed, have to track down his trousers. He hoped however, that they would have no cause to leave the cave immediately when they woke up. Leaning forward to kiss her hair, Strig then finally lent backwards and closed his eyes, exhausted, but impatient to wake up. ~~ More to come.