Ten minutes later, Thurston finally found himself free to move. He swung his arms further than he thought they’d go, and whacked them against the steering wheel and door.
“Oww! Fuck!” he shouted, then: “Hey, I can move. It’s about time.”
Claustrophobic in his car, he swung the car door open and got out.
Fuck driving, he thought. I’ll just run over to Callie’s apartment building. He slammed the car door shut, locked it, and left the area.
Running down the sidewalk, he was approaching her apartment building when he saw a car being driven away from where it had been parked, in front of the building’s entrance. It looked like Surian’s car.
That couldn’t have been her car, he thought. If those visions were anywhere near true, I can’t imagine Agnes walking away from demoness-Callie in one piece.
He ran into the building and raced for the elevator. He pounded his fist on the elevator button over and over again, impatiently with that irrational feeling that doing so would bring the elevator down to the ground floor faster.
“C’mon!” he growled as it floated down floor by floor.
Finally, the elevator arrived. The doors opened far too slowly for his patience, so he pried them open as best he could and squeezed inside. He pressed the seventh floor button.
As the elevator rose with–to him–the same laziness as it had gone down, he shook with rage.
“Come on, for fuck’s sake!” he shouted, then thought, Oh, God, please, let Agnes be OK…at least let her be alive!
The elevator reached the seventh floor. Again, as the doors took their time opening, his impatient hands pried them open faster and he squeezed through.
As he began running down the hall to her apartment, he realized he forgot to hold his breath.
Wait, he thought, stopping halfway there. I don’t smell any pheromone.
Indeed…there was no pheromone smell at all.
He did a light jog the rest of the way to Callie’s apartment, found the door wide open, and took out his pistol. He poked his head in the doorway and looked around. He saw nobody there.
He crept in with wide open, alert eyes. He cocked his pistol as he made his way through her living room area, his eyes darting around everywhere to see if the hairy, clawed beast was hiding somewhere behind the furniture, waiting to pounce on him. He was approaching the bedroom.
Hit the beast dead centre in the heart or in the brain, he reminded himself as he reached the bedroom doorway, the door being halfway open.
Still no pheromone smell at all.
He looked past the opened half of the doorway. He saw nobody. He heard nothing.
He turned his head back to get another look around the living room area. No beast sneaking up behind him.
No Surian, either.
Is the beast hiding behind that bedroom door? he wondered, then looked through the crack between the door and the corner wall of the bedroom.
He tapped the door open with his foot while pointing the gun straight in front of him, anticipating any possible danger.
The door now all the way open, he saw, on the floor, between the bed and the closet, the hairy body of the clawed beast lying sprawled in a pool of its own blood. That phallic spike was pointing up in a crescent arc from its groin to the ceiling.
Not even a drop of blood was on its sharp tip.
He heaved a huge sigh. I guess those visions deceived me, he thought.
He looked around the rest of the bedroom. Surian was nowhere to be seen, though a fired pistol was lying on the floor next to the beast.
“Where the hell is she?” he said, putting his gun in its holster and taking out his phone. She’s the one who killed the beast, isn’t she? he wondered as he looked for her number in his list of contacts. That’s her gun, isn’t it? It looks like hers. Surely there was at least some truth to those visions, wasn’t there?
He clicked her cellphone number and waited as the ringing repeated eight times before setting him up to leave a message. Beep.
“Agnes, this is Andy,” he said. “Where are you? I’m in Callie’s bedroom with the beast lying here dead. Did you do this? If so, great, but why did you leave the scene? Are you OK? Did the beast hurt you in any way before you killed it? Please call me back ASAP. Bye.” Was that her driving away in her car a few minutes ago? he wondered. If so, why would she just disappear like that, without calling me or Hicks about the beast? I guess I’ll have to get the police over here, instead of her.
Twenty minutes later, the room was filled with police. The beast’s body was taken away on a stretcher, to be driven to a group of doctors and biologists who, having followed the story in the news, were eager to do a necropsy on it to learn whatever they could about it.
Hicks was with Thurston, both of them baffled as to where Surian could possibly be.
“I can’t believe it,” Thurston said. “She found the beast, presumably, shot it, and just left? No calls, no messages as to where she is or what she’s doing? What the fuck?”
“I guess this ‘Callie’ was somehow involved with the beast after all, though she’s as missing as your girlfriend,” Hicks said.
“Where the fuck is she?” Thurston said.
“I guess she ran off with somebody else,” Hicks said. “Try someone else. Try a new experience.” He smiled suggestively at Thurston.
“No offence, but even if I was gay, I doubt you’d ever be my type,” Thurston said. “When we’re done here, I’ll drive over to her place and see if she’s there.”
“And I’ll be at my place tonight if you change your mind, Andy.” Hicks winked at him.
Thurston rolled his eyes.
That night, the doctors and biologists were sighing and puffing in frustration as they looked down on the hairy body on the table.
“We’ve been examining every inch of this thing for hours,” a woman among them said. “It cannot be classified as any known species that has ever existed.”
“It doesn’t even qualify as Bigfoot,” a man standing next to her said.
“Is it a hermaphrodite?” a man standing on the woman’s other side asked. “It seems female, but is this spike in its crotch supposed to be a penis?”
“It’s totally baffling, anyway,” the woman said. “I give up. What do you guys think?”
“I agree,” some of them said together.
“It’s late. Let’s go to bed,” the first man said.
“I doubt we’ll gain any more insights from it through further examination,” the second man said. “I say we bury it and forget about it.”
“Yeah, OK,” she said. “If any new insights come in the future, we can always dig it up then and look at the skeleton.”
One night later that week, Thurston sat slumped on a chair in his apartment with a frown.
Still no response to my message on her phone, he thought. Every time I go to her apartment, she’s never there. She didn’t die, did she? Ballistics confirmed that the bullet shot to kill the beast was from her pistol. But God, where is she?
Suddenly, his cellphone rang; he checked it–it was her.
“Agnes!” he said into the phone. “Where are you? Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she sighed, as if irritated by the question. “I’m in my apartment.”
“So, you shot the beast?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Are you proud of me?”
“Of course, but…why’d you leave Callie’s apartment?”
“Because…the sheer terror of seeing that thing, with its…spike-dick…almost stabbing into my pussy, made me want to get as far away from the scene as I could. I needed to lie low for several days, with nobody to bother me…just to calm down.”
“I see,” he said. “Just needed to recover from the trauma, eh?”
“Exactly…but I’m OK now. You, Hicks, and the others took care of the rest of the problem all right?”
“Yeah, of course. Everything’s sorted out, though I’m sure Hicks would like to talk to you. So, you’re at home?”
“Yeah. Wanna come over?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of the front door of her apartment. He rang the doorbell.
She opened the door out wide. His jaw dropped.
Her face was brightly made up, she was in a pink see-through babydoll nightie revealing black lace underwear. She wore white high heels.
He reminded himself to be a gentleman and look back up in her eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “I j-just never realized how…curvy you are under your…normal clothes.”
“Why, thank you,” she said with a grin. “You can look if you want. I don’t mind.” She turned around for him. “You’ve always liked me, and now that the hairy beast is gone, I can confess that I’ve always liked you.”
“Why couldn’t you confess it before?”
“Because I was afraid of falling for you when the beast might kill you. That clawed, hairy animal reminded me of a bear that attacked and killed my old teenage boyfriend in the BC woods–speaking of trauma. If the beast had killed you, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. It’s gone now, so I don’t have to worry about it. And you and I can celebrate our success.”
“OK.” He was grinning like a high school kid.
“Well? You gonna stand out in the hallway forever? Come on in.”
“Oh, yeah, all right,” he said, then entered her apartment.
“That’s a nice perfume you’re wearing,” he said.
“Thank you.” She took him by the hand and led him into her bedroom.
“Are you sure you want to do this now, Agnes? I mean, I’d love to, but we seem to be going really fast here.”
“You may be old-fashioned, but I’m a modern woman.” She removed the nightie and tossed it on a chair near her bed. He removed his gun and holster and put in on her bedside table, between the chair and the bed. “I’ve been through hell recently; I need some heaven to heal me.”
She kicked off the high heels. She then looked down at his crotch and giggled at the bulge in his pants. He blushed.
She removed her bra and wiggled her perfectly formed breasts with pride.
“Holy shit, Agnes. You’re better endowed than I thought.”
She giggled as she pulled down her black panties to reveal a hairless crotch. She now stood proudly nude before him.
“You’re shaved?” he asked with wide open eyes.
“I did it for you earlier today.”
“OK, big boy. Now it’s your turn. Don’t be shy.”
“OK.” He stripped down to reveal a hairy body and a full erection. She giggled at it, then licked her lips.
“You’re hairier than the beast…and spikier, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“OK, Andy. Let’s fuck.”
They got on the bed in the missionary position. Up close, her perfume was a powerful scent.
When he pushed inside her, she let out a shrill wail.
“Oh!” she squealed each time with his first thrusts. “That’s…more…like it! Ah!“
“What…do you mean, ‘more…like it’?” he panted.
“The beast…with its…spike-dick…almost did…what you’re doing…now. Oh!“
“Yeah,…you said…before. It tried to…rape you?”
“Yeah, but…I shot it.”
“That’s good. Oh!“
“But it tore…a hole in a…good pair of pants.”
“At least…it didn’t hurt you.”
“No. Ah!” She came, splashing all over his cock. He pulled out. “OK,” she panted, then turned around to be on the bed on all fours. She looked back at him, and with a lewd twinkle in her eyes, she said, “Fuck me in the ass.”
“You’re into that?” he asked with a slight sneer.
“Oh, I’m game, it’s just…I never imagined you to be that kind of girl, Agnes.”
“Are you disappointed in me?”
“N-no, it’s just…well, you’re one surprise after another.”
“Andy, how much of my sex life have you ever known about? Like, none of it?“
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Look, the trauma over killing–and almost being killed by–the beast kind of fucked with my head, OK? Wild and wicked sex helps me process trauma, as weird as that must sound to you. I dunno, I’m just funny that way. Can you try to understand that?”
“Yeah, I guess that explains it.” He looked down at her ass. “You’re lubed?“
“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how horny I am. Terror and trauma tend to get me hot. Now, c’mon, do me before I change my mind.”
“OK,” he said, then slid in. “Ooh! That…feels…good.”
As he moved in and out, he looked over at her face to see if she was showing any signs of feeling pain. She had only a lascivious smirk on her mouth.
I can’t believe it, he thought. I always thought she was the nice, girl-next-door type, like my teenage crush, the one Agnes physically reminds me of. Well, I guess what I imagined of the crush was just an idealized fantasy who has nothing to do with the real Agnes. I’ll have to accept that, and let Agnes just be herself.
Her moans grew louder as he moved in and out, faster and more forcefully with each thrust. Those loud moans began to sound a little bit like grunts.
“Am I…hurting you?” he panted, looking over at her face.
“No, I’m fine,” she said in an unusually husky voice.
“OK.” He kept on screwing.
His legs were as spread out as hers, and his ass was pushed out like hers, too, as if he were willing to get what he was giving her. This would seem appropriate…
…for suddenly, he felt a sharp, bone-like sensation stabbing into his asshole, ripping the anal walls and burrowing deep inside. “Aaaah!” he screamed hoarsely. Blood was dripping all over the bed between their legs. Shaking all over, he looked over at her face.
Agnes turned her head around, revealing the wild, hairy face of the beast, a face combining the features of Callie, Visner, and Agnes. Hair had grown all over the now hermaphroditic body. With painful effort, Thurston straightened up and looked down to see that the curled spike in his ass was coming from her groin…that phallic claw he’d seen on the beast.
He reached for his gun on the bedside table. To his surprise, the demoness helped him get closer to it…by using the phallic spike to pull his body onto her back, merging their torsos together.
“Umph!” he groaned when their bodies collided.
He managed to get the gun out of its holster, but Kluh used her power to draw his two arms back to merge with hers, causing him to drop the gun on the bed to the right of the pillow. Their arms slapped hard together.
“Ungh!” he groaned at the pain.
He felt his hands and fingers sticking to hers; when he tried to pull his apart from hers, it only hurt, so he gave up on that quickly. His palms felt as if glued to the backs of her hands. His chest was sticking to her back in the same way.
Soon, he could no longer voice his pain from merging with her body, for his face was buried in her hair. His nose disappeared into the back of her head; his lips kissed her neck so hard as to disappear inside it, too.
A bullet, dead centre in her brain, will kill Kluh, as the Yamas told Agnes and me, he thought as he reached with the greatest effort for the gun, fighting against Kluh’s pulling back of their now fully merged right hand. If I kill her, maybe my body will be freed and not killed with her…maybe Agnes will be freed, too. I have to try. If I die, too, at least I won’t live with Kluh possessing me.
His chest and belly had dissolved into her back; their hearts were merging. He felt his still-erect penis elongated and burrowed deep inside her body, plugged into her, as it were. His balls and her vulva were merged; that spike up his ass no longer felt like a stab wound, for it was as ‘plugged into him’ as his cock was plugged into her. Contained and containing flesh was intermingling. Their eight limbs were now four, fully merged.
We’re sharing one heart now–I can feel only one beating, he thought, grasping the gun. If I shoot myself through the chest dead centre, I’ll die with Kluh, presumably. Our brains aren’t yet one, though. If I can point the gun above her ear–which hasn’t merged with mine yet, and if I can put a bullet in the middle of her brain, I have a hope the demon will release me before leaving the physical world.
Despite Kluh’s resistance, he managed to wrap his fingers around the gun, his index finger touching but not squeezing the trigger. His whole face had disappeared into the back of her head. Their torsos were fully merged into one. Only their ears and brains were still doubled, the ears coming closer together, and their brains about to touch.
I don’t have much time, he thought.
It took all his strength to raise the arm with the pistol up to their merging head. No longer on all fours, the body was straightened up by Kluh to be on its knees on the bed. Its fingernails were lengthening into strong, sharp claws.
When the claws were fully formed, the left hand moved over to try to stop the right hand from firing the gun into the brain Kluh was controlling. The back of her brain was now starting to touch the front of Thurston’s. The left claws tried to stab into or slice off the right hand. Because he still had some control of both arms, she was so far only able to slice deep cuts into the right forearm.
She screamed their shared pain.
At about the same time that night, the beast’s buried body–the one examined by the doctors and biologists, and thanks to Kluh’s power, not decomposed in the slightest–lay there underground, with its hair slithering back into its follicles. The phallic claw had already shrunk and disappeared into its groin. Its shape was bloating out in the middle.
Thurston summoned all his strength to wrest control of both arms from Kluh. Not only was she no longer able to use the left arm to reach over to the right one to slice at it, but he managed–by tapping the tip of his gun on her ear as a reference point to feel his way around–to aim it at the head, the barrel of the pistol pointing more or less at the middle of her brain…which was beginning to merge with his.
Still, it was hard for him to stop the hand holding the pistol from shaking.
I don’t have much time, he thought. Gotta keep my hand steady.
Kluh no longer tried to cut off the right hand with the left. She chose instead to give him a false sense of confidence in his aim. Let him shoot, she thought. But keep his hand shaking…and have it shoot at the right time, putting the bullet either in his brain, or if it hits mine, let it be off-centre. Either way, he’ll be assimilated into me with Sandra/Callie, Visner, and Agnes. All options are working in my favour.
Still, he pushed himself to keep his hand steady. The pistol was barely wavering.
He cocked it.
Keep a rhythm, he thought. When my hand sways forward, it’s pointed at the centre of her brain; when it sways back, it’s off-centre or aiming at my brain. Back, forth, back, forth, back, f…
He pulled the trigger.
The buried body was now completely transformed into the fresh corpse of Sandra Brahms.