The Romero Strain (21 page)

David tipped the card to me in acknowledgement.

I said my parting words with sincerity and with the knowledge that I may not return, and slipped through the doorway as it began to close.

* * *

The smell of iron from the pooled blood was strong. The scent of ammonia clung heavy in the air, too. Death was everywhere and I couldn’t avoid stepping in it.

I headed back to Luci. I had been gone nearly an hour and needed to check her condition if she allowed me. She was wounded and didn’t have the strength to put up a fight. Like any sick and frightened animal, she could be docile due to her condition, but violent when her power and stamina returned. I could be in a fight for survival, but I hoped not.

I was near the intersection when I slipped and fell on my buttocks. The hard thump hurt my coccyx and I probably did something bad to the sacrum. I was definitely going to feel it later. I managed to keep the steak on the plate, but it cost me a sprained wrist.

There I was again, filthy. It seemed I had a propensity for bodily fluids finding their way onto my clothing. My pants were soaked in it. This wasn’t going to come off with a few antibacterial wipes, which I was out of anyways. I would need a change of clothes and a thorough scrubbing.

I walked to the door. I had left it ajar because I didn’t want her to feel trapped again. I peered into the room through the slight opening of the doorway. She was awake and watching me. My clothing was saturated in blood. I pulled the pistol from my pants and set it on the floor with the machine gun. I removed my sneakers and crimson stained pants. I picked up the pistol and held it behind me in my right hand. I peered in slowly and cautiously, pushing on the door. She still was focused on me. I entered the room and partly closed the door behind me. I moved toward the dresser opposite the bed. She made no attempt to rise, no menacing motion at all, just a slight stirring of the sheets. I dropped the pistol on the dresser and moved toward the bed, Luci still watching. It appeared that I fascinated her. Perhaps it was because I showed her kindness and tenderness, or maybe it was because I was partially like her.

I squatted next to the bed and drew back the covers exposing her wound and breasts. When I reached out to check the bloodied bandage she grabbed my hand and placed it on her left breast.

I drew my hand away from the softness and fullness of her bosom. “Luci,” I said calmly. “Please, let me see.” I tried once more, but again she positioned my hand on her breast. I calmly pulled away.

“Okay, Luci. Never mind. I’ll check later.” I pulled the sheets up and covered her.

I set the plate down next to her. She didn’t grab for the meat; she just looked at it.

The blood that stained my skin was sticky. I needed a shower. I needed to feel clean.

* * *

I stepped out of the shower and toweled off. It was good to feel fresh again. Oddly, I no longer suffered the pain from my earlier injuries. I flexed my wrist. It felt as though I had never hurt it. I realized that my bite wound was no longer painful. I unwrapped the wet, bloodstained gauze to discover my wound was nearly healed––not completely, but the deep puncture marks were just a bright pink impression of teeth.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and took another to rub my hair dry. Though I had l left the door halfway open, I couldn’t see the bed from where the shower was located. As my head was shrouded in the fresh-scented towel, my hands briskly rubbed my scalp. I heard a noise from the bedroom and became alarmed. I hoped she hadn’t tried to get up, and fallen.

“Luci,” I said, as I exited the bathroom.

She was not in the bed.

I caught her out of the corner of my eye too late. Before I was able to react, she ripped the towel from my waist and threw me onto the bed. She sat on top of me, sitting just above my pelvic region, pinning my shoulders down with great strength, though her grip was weaker on her injured side.

She started to vocalize and gyrate her pelvis back and forth. Harm wasn’t her intention. She was trying to mount me. Once I felt her moistness rubbing against my flaccidness, I became excited and quickly erect. Suddenly a deep, overpowering instinct began to overtake my human side. It was the instinct to procreate.

I reversed the pin and I was sitting on her. I tried to fight my desire, both the human and animal parts, but lust took over. I began kissing and licking her neck and breasts. I squeezed the fullness of each breast taking time to suckle each protruding nipple, licking and gently biting. I continued down her stomach, stopping only an instant to lick her navel on my way to her inner thighs.

I could smell her musk; it filled my senses and drove my behavior. I gently probed her womanhood with my tongue and she quivered.
Touching her clitoris, she gyrated her pelvis and quivered more intensely. I could no longer control the animal force that drove me. I wanted to be inside her. I needed to be inside her. I moved up and penetrated her, not gently but forcefully. My enlarged manhood moved deeply into her with ease. Luci clutched her arms under my shoulders and slightly dug her talons into my back, and began to vocalize, “Tu whoo.” The sensation of her piercing hooked claws was painful and exciting. I propelled in and out of her harder and harder with each thrust, exciting myself while building to a heightened climax. I drove one last time into her; my testicles felt like they were on fire. My engorged penis throbbed intensely as I ejaculated. Her vagina contracted as I came, instinctively holding in my seed. My semen still flowed, pumping out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my mutation or because I hadn’t been with a woman in nearly a year. The pleasure was overwhelming.

I lay on top of her, my face next to hers. She released her arms. I could feel little trickles of blood rolling down my back. I could also feel my erection inside her. I had not become flaccid. I was as hard as I was when I penetrated her. I could feel Luci moving her hips. She wasn’t satisfied; she wanted more. We proceeded to copulate again.

* * *

I was still erect, my penis pointing directly north, like I was sixteen and horny. My transmute DNA had supercharged my sexual drive. At least being my age, I was able to control my lust—well, partly.

Luci had had enough of lying in bed. She wanted out and I couldn’t stop her. She moved toward the bathroom, beckoning me to follow. I sat up and watched her. When I didn’t respond to her request she tugged on my arm, urging me to follow. I wasn’t sure why she wanted to go into the bathroom or why she wanted me with her. She could see I didn’t understand.

She made a fist, moving it up and down her body as if she was wiping something off. She pulled on my arm again, telling me to come with her. Then she repeated the wiping motion.

It finally struck me. She wanted to go back into the shower. She wanted me to bathe her again.

The warmth of the water felt good against my body. I stood behind her with my erection pressed firmly on her buttock’s crease. The sensation of her hide-like flesh upon my sensitive manhood felt odd but arousing. I was strong and hard. There was no sign of my erection going limp. It was as if I had taken a handful of Viagra and I didn’t know when it would come down. As I gently washed her, I could see the blood in the water as it flowed down the drain. There wasn’t a lot; just enough to know she hadn’t completely clotted.

She pressed herself against me, nudging me, indicating she desired me again. She slowly turned her head around to face me. She stared at me with her strangely horrific but compelling face.

She attempted, I suppose, what to her was a kiss. She bit my lip with her sharp teeth and drew blood. She licked the blood from my lip. She tried again to kiss me, biting my tongue lightly. She bent over, urging me to enter her. I obliged.

Our act of procreating was slightly terrifying, but extremely invigorating with her head turned backwards and her odd eyes gazing into mine. I kissed her passionately on the mouth, showing her the proper way to kiss while we fornicated, but she didn’t seem interested in the gentleness of my lips against hers, just the intensity of our motion. And the livelier our movement became, the louder she vocalized, “Tu whoo.”

Afterwards we sat on the shower floor, Luci cradled in my arms. The warmth of the water felt good against my body, like a warm summer rain on a hot day. For a short time all I did was hold her, comforting her. I thought about my time in the hospital, wishing that I had had someone to give me comfort, other than my concerned parents.

Luci had fallen asleep, the back of her head resting upon my shoulder and her arms wrapped around mine. She was roused when the water began to cool. We couldn’t have used all the hot water, so it must have been facility failure. It was time for me to reacquaint myself with reality and address the issue of what to do with the creature Doctor France deemed pure evil.

Her bandages were wet. It was time to remove them and redress her wounds. I gently patted her afflictions to dry them. I was amazed how rapidly they were healing. She was as tall as I was and somewhere in the range of one hundred and thirty pounds, but as I picked her up in my arms and carried her back to the bed, she felt very light. I didn’t notice before. I needed to go back to the infirmary for the medical supplies, but she was not going to have that. She pulled me onto the bed and sat on top of me again.

Her wet shoulder-length hair, a natural, deep rich strawberry blond, covered her nearly earless features. She had radiant, deep blue eyes. Strangely, I thought she had retained her iris color and mine had morphed.

I was struck by a television memory. I remembered the episode of
Masters of Horror
, titled
Jenifer
. In the episode, the detective who rescued Jenifer from an insane asylum had uncontrollable feelings of lust and attraction for her lustful, wanton body, though her face was ghastly. When he realized that she was a human beast too dangerous to keep near people, he moved with her to an isolated old cabin in the woods, and tragic consequences ensued.

Watching the television show with my girlfriend at that time, I said I could never have sex with a woman that had a face like a beast, even with such an incredible body. I would have been afraid she’d bite my dick off. The character in the episode had pointed teeth for ripping flesh and performed oral sex on the cop. “It’s just too freaky and dangerous,” I told her.

Her comment was, “I thought all men think with their dicks. That’s why they get drunk, do stupid shit, and knock-up ugly chicks.”

I tried to convince her we weren’t all that stupid, but as I reminisced, I recognized that maybe most of us were.

“Luci, stop,” I firmly told her, “There’s no time,” but she wouldn’t listen or didn’t understand.

She mimicked what I had done to her when I had been on top. She kissed and licked my neck, that time not biting. She moved her mouth down to my chest and licked my nipple. She moved toward my stomach and down to my erection.

I wanted oral sex, but that freaky, dangerous feeling came over me. I drew her up and moved her above me in order to insert myself. She held me down like the first time, when she grabbed me and threw me on the bed. She slowly moved back and forth along my fullness, almost allowing my erection to come out of her. It felt good. I could feel the pleasure building up within me. I wanted hard and aggressive sex again, but she wouldn’t allow it. I grabbed at her buttocks while attempting to lift my pelvis upward, driving my hardness deep into her. She slammed her vagina onto my pelvis while simultaneously pushing her hands against my shoulders, digging her claws into me, forcing me flat on the bed. She was telling me she was in control, and when I succumbed to her wish, she extracted her nails from my flesh and released the pressure from my arms.

She continued her rhythmic motion, slowly at first, teasing me, building my orgasm, building hers. It was like she knew what she was doing. But how could this be? Had she retained that much of her humanity? The doctor had said that there were neurological changes in both size and function of the overall frontal and temporal lobes. How was pleasuring herself and a partner was achievable? Her body language appeared to be lovemaking, not instinctual mating.

Her motion became quicker and more defined. Her vocalization began again. She pressed down on my shaft as she reached my pubic area, forcing my erection deeper inside her while contracting herself slightly. She released and moved upward again, but only halfway up my manhood, then drove herself down again and released. As she repeated the motion, I could feel her wetness running onto my scrotum. She moaned, not entirely human-like, but not animal-like. She became louder as her motions became more frantic.

She stopped and her stomach drew in, becoming tight. The muscles of her vagina contracted strongly around my penis. She pressed down on me repeatedly, tightly wrapping her warm, moist womanhood around me, arousing me to the extreme. I felt my testicles tingle with a warm, burning sensation. My erection pulsed, spewing copious amounts of fluid, which were ejected deep into her. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever had, even after several times.

She lay upon me; her head nestled in mine.

I could spend hours more, even days, pleasuring myself with her, but I had spent more time with her than I planned. I needed to redress her wounds and take her to the outside world––for the safety of everyone. She was not human and not of our kind, though I was not of anyone’s kind.