Seed of Horror: Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Professor Nelson watched as debris and bodies were hauled away from the ruins of the prison. Rain was pouring from the early morning sky, yet the flames from the chaotic scene burned unhindered. They curled up around concrete and steel, reaching desperately for the sky in their insatiable hunger for air. The entire landscape had been essentially leveled, all grass and vegetation replaced with charred soil or blood-splattered rubble. It was around dawn, yet the black clouds held back the rising sun’s light and warmth. The clean up crews had been working for twelve hours, yet the scene was just as hellish as the minutes after the plane crash. It was as if there was a toxic force in the area, a malevolent energy that kept the flames burning like thermite. So far, no survivors had been found, and the number of relatively intact corpses could be counted on one hand. Even with dental and DNA records, identifying even half the victims would be a true challenge.

It was being considered one of the most horrible tragedies in state, national, and aviation history. A prison riot, ended only by a plane crash-landing into the prison itself? Events like these were the stuff of nightmares, and Nelson feared that this was only the beginning. Even worse, the original police and SWAT officers that had arrived to contain the prison riot had been drawn in to the Black Stigmata’s influence and went mad. Forensics showed the original perimeter set up around the prison had been generally unscathed from the explosion, meaning that every cop that had arrived at the scene had either gone in and gotten killed, or had run off and was now MIA. People would be asking questions, asking how this was possible. The BSC would have a very hard time concealing this.

This was like the village from the Middle East all over again, but on an even grimmer scale. Were cataclysms like these going to be occurring more and more frequently? Public shootings were already in the news seemingly every week, would massive riots and acts of cannibalism become daily front page? Jason Stevens was likely in that mess somewhere, killed by the other inmates, falling rubble, flames, or simple suffocation. Time to chalk up one more on the list of Black Stigmata Hosts to have their lives ruined.

Looking up at the sky and feeling the rain tap his glasses, Nelson wished the weather would clear up enough to let him smoke, or that he at least had an umbrella. Deciding that simply standing in the rain and staring into the sea of burning rubble wouldn’t purge him of his guilt, he turned around and walked away. Might as well go home and grade papers…

Reaching the new established perimeter set up by the state police, he drew his BSC credentials to be released. For scenes like this, everyone going in or out had to be cleared. As the guard gave him permission to leave, a conversation between a nearby cop and police sergeant caught his attention.

“I think a prisoner might have escaped, we just got word of a car fire out in the woods. There were human remains inside.”

Jason stood in front of Christi’s front door, shaking like a leaf and wondering if this was a good idea. Considering the fact that his prison uniform was soaked in blood, he was rather doubtful. He knew she was here, alone. Her car was in the driveway, the only one. It had been a nightmare getting here, but he at least wanted to see her one last time. Slowly, he reached out and pressed the doorbell, hearing it ding throughout the house. Moments later, Christi’s footsteps echoed through the halls and the doors opened. The moment she saw him, Christi threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, crying fresh tears that ran from her already puffy eyes. “Oh god! I heard about the prison on the news! I thought you were dead! I’ve been sobbing all night!” she whimpered, holding him so tightly that Jason could barely breathe.

He returned the hug only lightly, hesitant to raise his arms. “I can’t stay, Christi. I have to go… I just came to say goodbye.”

“What are you talking about? If you turn yourself in, it will prove your innocence in the death of that cop! If you run, you’ll just look guilty!”

“I am guilty, Christi… I didn’t kill that cop, but I… I did something horrible. I did something unspeakable and they’ll lock me up forever if they find me. Besides, it’s not safe for you or anyone else if I stay, I have to get out of the state for your sake.”

Christi pulled away, only now aware of the blood that coated his face and uniform. Fear brushed up against her like a cold draft after stepping out of the shower, but she pushed that fear aside. She had known Jason most of her life, she knew that he wasn’t capable of something as horrible as he was talking about.

“Listen, just come inside, clean yourself off, get something to eat, and let’s talk about this!” she pleaded, trying to pull him inside.

Jason sighed, having known that this wouldn’t be a quick goodbye like he wanted. “All right.”

Jason was kneeling naked with a towel around his waist in front of the toilet, vomiting like it was Mardi Gras. In his hand was a bottle of mouthwash, with half a liter of rubbing alcohol poured in. Over and over again, he chugged the acid mixture and then forced himself to vomit it back out. He couldn’t stand it, the knowledge that the flesh and blood of two people that he had murdered and cannibalized—one of them brutally raped first—was in his body. That wasn’t even counting all of the possessed people from the prison that he had murdered. It made him want to slit his wrists in guilt and disgust. This seemed like the only way he could clean out his mouth and stomach, and if it weren’t for the fact that it would kill him in the process, he would have mixed in some bleach.

He had already spent the last hour showering with scalding hot water, trying to rub off every flake of blood and flesh that clung to him like glue, as well as scrub the sin off his soul.

“Jason, I got some of my brother’s and dad’s clothes that should fit you. Though I just don’t have it in me to let you use their underwear,” Christi said from the other side of the locked door, adding the last part to try and ease the tension between them.

“Just a second,” Jason grumbled, washing his mouth out one last time to get rid of the taste of vomit.

Getting up, he tightened the towel around his waist and looked at himself in the mirror. The symbols that the Black Stigmata had implanted in his brain were glowing with reinforced radiance. They had finally begun to wane when the prison riot happened. Oh well, if there was a silver lining, it was that they had helped him shoot attackers when he was making his escape. With a grid of stationary symbols spread out across his field of vision, he had been able to use many of the symbols as crosshairs, or even laser scopes. Damn, he had shot a lot of guards and prisoners. He couldn’t even remember how many people he had killed… What had he become? Turning his attention back to Christi, he opened the door and graciously accepted the clothes.

“Come on downstairs, you look like you could use a good home-cooked meal.”

Jason tried to smile, but his lips just twisted. “I can’t, I need to leave. If anyone knew I was here, you would be arrested for harboring a criminal. Besides, it would be safer for everyone if I just disappeared,” he said sadly, stepping back into the bathroom.

Christi moved past the door and cornered him. “Aren’t you going to talk to your parents or your sister?”

“If my parents knew I was alive, they would never stop worrying about me, and it would only endanger them. Besides… I don’t want my last memory of Colleen to be seeing her in the hospital, unable to walk and still recovering from being brutally gang-raped. I would rather never get a final goodbye than have to see her in that state.”

“Jason, what is going on? What happened? What did you do? I know there is something you’re not telling me! Just tell the truth!”

Jason’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to figure out what he should tell her. He wanted to tell the truth to someone, to verbally explain why it wasn’t his fault and be believed and even forgiven. But would Christi even listen to him? He didn’t want to leave her with the knowledge that the man she loved had just raped and eaten a woman. And if he started talking about the Black Stigmata, it would just put her in danger, not to mention she would assume he was lying or he was crazy. Wait… crazy!
“Christi, I… I’ve… Christi, I’ve been losing my mind for the past month. I’m going insane and it just gets worse and worse every day. I’m hallucinating, I’m hearing voices, I’m having horrible nightmares that won’t let me sleep, and I’m blacking out and doing things that I don’t remember doing, or remember them only too late. I might even have killed that cop. Christi, I… I murdered someone last night, without knowing it. I woke up this morning next to their bloody corpse,” he stammered, feeling tears of guilt budding from his eyes as he thought back to the woman.

He was starting to remember now, what he had done specifically to her. Bits and pieces of the previous night were flashing across his mind’s eye like a flipbook with most of its pages missing. He remembered stabbing her in the knee and throat, he remembered groping her and brutalizing her insides with his fingers, he remembered forcing himself on her and staring into her eyes as his cock skewered her pussy again and again, he remember sodomizing her tight asshole as her blood ran down the hood of her car, and he remembered… tearing the flesh off her body with his teeth and making her scream in agony. He remembered the taste and even the toughness of the meat, from her soft breasts to her firm ass.

Christi’s face turned to marble in a concoction of fear and disbelief, terrified by the very idea that Jason had actually killed someone, and that he may kill again without even being able to control himself. But she could see it in Jason’s face, how much it truly haunted him and how much he was cursing himself. Was it true? Did he really have some sort of mental disease? She had never heard of any kind of psychological condition striking so suddenly.

Rushing over, Christi again wrapped her arms tightly around Jason and buried her face in his chest. “If you’re sick, then all you need is medication and you’ll be fine! You don’t have to go to jail for this! I don’t know why you feel the need to punish yourself when you haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Christi…”

At the mentioning of her name, Christi looked up and joined her lips with Jason’s, with their deep breathing instantly degenerating into rapid pants. The more and more their lips touched, the more energized their bodies became. They hadn’t been able to have sex in weeks (not counting Jason’s possession the previous night), and the two of them could barely even think straight from the lust that had been building up during their separation. Separating from Christi, Jason moved his lips up and down her neck over and over, heralding the transition from simply kissing.

Pulling Jason back, Christi sat up on the sink counter and pulled off her shirt. Jason continued kissing her while fumbling with the clasp of her bra, all while Christi kept her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His hands shaky from excitement (and the stress of throwing up so many times), he finally managed to release the clasp and let Christi’s c-cup breasts spring forth from their cloth prison. Upon their release, Jason took her right nipple in his mouth, sucking on her areola ravenously while massaging her left breast in his hand.

Moaning from the sensation of being touched so intimately, Christi pulled off her sweat pants and panties and kicked them aside, then hungrily clawed at the makeshift knot holding the towel around Jason’s waste. With the two of them naked, Christi once against wrapped her legs around Jason and moved forward, letting him penetrate her with his trembling erection. So hot that Christi felt like it would burn her, she moaned and panted as the head of Jason’s cock forced open the soft lips of her pussy and worked its way deep inside her body.

Upon fully inserting himself, Jason moved his hands to Christi’s thighs and picked her up, making her yelp in surprise before he pushed her against the wall. Using his arms to hold her off the ground and the friction of her bare back against the drywall, Jason began swinging his pelvis like a pendulum, driving up into her with all his strength while grinding his cock against the very back of her velvet sleeve. Terrified of falling, Christi wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and held on for dear life. However, with how hard Jason was ramming her slit and how deep the head of his cock was delving, it was difficult for her to even maintain control of her muscles.

True, Jason had always been pretty energetic in bed and with good stamina, but he was fucking her now as if he was angry, like he was taking his frustrations out on her. She sure as hell didn’t mind; this was already some of the best sex they had ever had. Every time he thrust into her, she could feel his dick violently kissing the entrance to her womb. More than moaning, it was making her bite her lip and growl like an animal.

“Harder, faster!” she demanded while chewing on his ear.

Happy to obey, he lowered her to her feet, pulled out of her, and spun her around. Pushing her back against the wall, he returned his right hand to her thigh and used it to lift her leg and grant him access. Jason resumed fucking her, driving his cock deep into her luscious body with deep, brutal shoves. This new angle left Christi moaning with happiness, as she felt his cock stir up whole new corners of her pussy like he was mashing potatoes. With each shove he made, her whole body tingled with bliss and her tits bounced as if she were jogging topless. While Jason worked, she pushed against the wall with one arm and used her free hand to frantically rub her clit.

Jason was just as enthusiastic, having missed her body horribly while in prison. He hadn’t even masturbated since before he was arrested, it was just too creepy to jack off in that dark cell. Even though he had ejaculated several times the previous night while under the nail’s control, he felt like his balls would explode if he didn’t cum soon. He had missed the feeling of wearing Christi like a condom, missed the taste and feel of her soft skin, and missed just being with her.

“Oh yes, OH YES!” she screamed, experiencing her first climax while Jason used his left hand to pull on her hair.

Still brimming with energy and with the fluid of Christi’s orgasm running down his scrotum, Jason leaned back while pulling Christi with him, then moved both hands to the backs of her knees and again picked her up, this time with her leaning against him. Her knees were bent, her legs spread wide open, and she was completely at Jason’s mercy.

“Oh Jesus!” Christi yelped, having seen this position occasionally online but never thinking she would ever experience it herself.

Having stayed inside her the whole time, Jason began bucking his hips while leaning back, once again using only his lower body to drive up into her as fast as he could. Christi was screaming in pleasure, but also in discomfort. The tendons around her pelvis felt like they were about to snap, and with Jason’s cock driving into her like a wedge, fear of being split open like a piece of firewood filled her.

“Oh god! You’re being too rough!”

“Then how about we try something else?”

Still holding Christi up, he moved in front of the mirror, letting her see herself as he pulled out of her sopping wet pussy.

“Don’t do that! It’s too embarrassing!” she yelped, having never seen herself in the mirror while getting fucked.

Lifting her up higher, he moved his cock between her ass cheeks. “Put it in for me, you know you want it.”

“No way! I’ve only had a couple fingers in there! You’ll tear me apart!”

“Trust me.”

Biting her lip, Christi slowly reached down between her spread legs and grasped Jason’s cock, still slick with her juices. Momentarily holding it out, she leaned her head forward and spat a glob of saliva on the tip for some extra lubrication. She would certainly need it. With her saliva and pussy juice coating Jason’s cock, she guided the head to her tight virgin anus. Feeling it pressed against the tip, Jason lowered Christi down onto it. As soon as the head began to spread the ring of her asshole, Christi began to pant and wince like she was getting a tattoo.

Even with the mix of saliva and pussy juice on the head of his cock, squeezing in Christi was trying to penetrate a clenched fist. After the first quarter-inch, the protective skin gave way to soft wet flesh, and while intense friction remained, Jason was able to slowly insert his whole manhood into her.

“Oh god, it’s too big! You’re going to break me!” Christi screamed, unable to take her eyes off the mirror and watching as she lost her backdoor virginity.

Slowly, Jason lowered her all the way down, burying his cock in her tight asshole up to the base. He gave Christi a few moments to get used to the huge mass inside her. Once her breathing calmed and her expression showed less pain, he raised her up and watched as she winced from the near removal of his cock. Keeping the head in, he lowered back down and listened her whine, noting the pleasure mixed with the pain.

“How do you like it?” he asked, repeating the process over again and using his arms to slowly raise and drop her over and over again.

“Ah! Ah! AAAHHH!” she screamed in reply, blushing from the building arousal.

As he picked up speed, Jason noticed an immediate change in Christi’s behavior. Originally, her arms had out behind her in an attempt to hold onto him in case his hands slipped. Now she was using one hand to massage her breasts and her other hand to finger herself. Her screams of pain had transformed into moans of euphoria and her face was flushed with arousal.

“You look so slutty right now,” Jason laughed while running his tongue along her neck.

“I can’t help it, it feels so good!” she cried without taking her eyes off the mirror.

It was as if she was gaining more pleasure through watching herself getting sodomized than feeling the sodomy itself. Jason was the opposite, he was using the mirror for Christi’s sake, but he was focusing solely on the physical sensations. Her asshole was clutching his manhood so tightly, that each time he pulled out, it was like trying to win a tug of war. But goddamn, she was so soft and wet inside! Of course her pussy could be described the same way, but this was a completely different sensation! Yet no matter how good it felt, the building fatigue in his arms could not be ignored.

Trying to lessen the strain and last longer, he brought her legs together and crossed his arms under the back of her knees. At the same time, he divided his movement into two subdivisions: using his arms to move Christi, and swinging his body to drive into her. Every time he lifted her up, he would pull his pelvis back, and every time he brought her down, he thrust into her loosening anus.

“Christi… My arms… I can’t keep up.”

“Don’t stop! Oh god, it feels so good! Keep fucking me, please!”

“Relax, we just have to change positions.”

Using the last few drops of strength in his arms, he lowered her to the ground and immediately bent her over the sink. His arms may have been dead, but the rest of his body was still rearing to go. However, deciding to give his body just a slight break, he got down on his knees and spread Christi’s ass. Her anus was so loose from the pounding it had just taken that it was practically gaping. Leaning forward, he hungrily inserted his tongue into her anus. He wouldn’t be able to do this after he came inside her, so he might as well go down on her while he still could.

Christi’s original booming voice mellowed to a soft cooing as she felt Jason’s wet tongue slither through her asshole like an oiled tentacle. After being fucked for the first time and so hard at that, getting penetrated by Jason’s tongue felt like eating a bowl of ice cream after an extra spicy dinner. Christi’s ass tasted different from what Jason had been expecting. Specifically, there was no taste, other than perhaps the taste of soap. It seemed that since he was locked up, she had been preparing herself for this.

Once the aching in his arms eased, Jason stood up and entered her. Feeling Jason mount her like a dog, Christi’s moans of happiness restarted with his resumed thrusts into her. As soon as he was inside her, Jason began thrusting at full strength, slamming against her so that her ass clapped and jiggled against his thighs. He was trying to get as deep into her as possible and pulverize her ass with his manhood. One hand was on her shoulder and his other hand was pulling on her hair, ensuring a good hold while he brutalized her asshole like his own personal fleshlight, all to her groans of happiness.

Now that she was bent over the sink, Christi had a much closer view of herself in the mirror. Sure, she couldn’t see Jason’s throbbing cock violating her, but she was able to watch her mouth open and close with each pant, the tremors of her pupils as sexual bliss twisted her mind like a drug, and the bouncing of her firm tits every time her body was propelled forward and pulled back.

“So how do you like it?” Jason panted, throwing his full body weight against her with each thrust.

“I love it! I love getting fucked in my ass!” she moaned while she reached down and resumed fingering herself.

“I told you that you would like it. Was I right?” he continued, pulling her back so that only her forehead rested on the edge of the counter and her bouncing breasts knocked against her chin.

“Oh god! You were so right! It feels so good! Please, fuck me harder!”

Jason did as he was told, moving as fast as physically possible. At the speed he was driving into her, what stamina he had left was being rapidly depleted. At the same time, he could sense the ‘dam’ holding back his reservoirs beginning to crack. He had to outlast her! Just a little bit longer!

“Oh god! Oh god! OH GOOOOOD!” Christi screamed, feeling her second orgasm approaching like an oncoming train.

Just a little more! Jason was thrusting into her with everything he had, forcing every muscle to work near to the point of exploding!

“I’M CUMMINGGGGGGG!” Christi finally screeched, while her asshole tightened around Jason’s cock like a Chinese finger trap.

Just like the last time they had sex, her orgasm was so overwhelmingly powerful that splashes of pussy juice sprayed from between her legs. With a puddle forming beneath her, Christi’s body became limp. No longer able to contain himself, Jason gave five more exhausted thrusts before every drop of semen in his body was unleashed into her anus. Immediately losing all hardness, Jason pulled out of Christi and watched as a tiny waterfall of cum dripped out of her asshole.

Dropping to the floor and looking like she was about to pass out, Christi instinctively leaned over and took his flaccid penis in her mouth, sucking him off and cleaning him of his semen and the wetness from her ass.

“Definitely the best sex we’ve ever had,” Jason panted as Christi silently sucked every glob of semen out of his cock like she was drinking through a straw.

DING-DONG

The ringing of the doorbell sent waves of terror through the two lovers’ spines, terror so intense that Christi nearly bit down on Jason’s cock.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!” Christi squealed while frantically pulling on her clothes. Jumping through the hallway on one foot, she put her leg through her panties and sweat pants and struggled to maneuver through her tank top.

DING-DONG

The chime was heard as Christi ran down the stairs with Jason chasing her, struggling into the clothes she had given him. Reaching the door, she pulled it open and found herself facing Professor Nelson.

“Christi Langford I presume? I’ve heard a lot about you,” he asked while giving her a quick look up and down.

“Yes… uh… can I help you?”

“Is Jason decent? I need to talk to him.”

Much like with Jason’s confession of murder, Christi’s face became deathly pale. “Excuse me?”

“I know he’s here. The fact that you have semen on your chin proves that there is someone with you and that he doesn’t have a car.”

Christi’s white face was instantly red from embarrassment and she scrubbed her chin to remove Jason’s seed. Jason appeared behind her and she stepped back.

“Professor Nelson?” he asked in surprise.

“Care to explain to me what you’re doing? In your condition, your girlfriend is the last person you should be around. Do you want there to be ANOTHER death at your hands?”

Christi turned to Jason fearfully.

“You knew?” Jason asked.

The professor drew a cigarette from the pocket of his coat and lit it. “Oh course I knew. You did well to destroy any traces of your DNA from the scene and the body, but you forgot to clean up the area itself. There were scraps of that woman on the ground around her car. Blood is one thing, but only someone in the psychotic stage of the Black Stigmata would leave behind bits of flesh with teeth marks.”

Christi turned to Jason with a look of pure horror on her face. Bits of flesh… with TEETH MARKS?!

“What did you do?!” she exclaimed, staggering back fearfully.

“Relax, young lady. This idiot here had absolutely no control over himself. He was possessed by an evil artifact, which due to your boyfriend’s incredible stupidity, I now have to explain to you. So please, if you could brew a pot of coffee, we can get this started…” Christi stood as still as statue, switching her gaze from Jason to the professor. “Ms. Langford, the coffee? I am in no mood to explain anything without some black brew in my system. Run along now.”

“Uh… sure… ok,” she said nervously, walking off to the kitchen.

Nelson turned back to Jason and began smacking him in the back of the head. “Are you fucking retarded? You escape from a prison riot, kill a woman while under possession, and instead of trying to make contact with me, you come here and screw your girlfriend? You actually brought a nail into this woman’s home?”

“I don’t have a nail!” Jason defended, shirking away to avoid the repeating smacks.

“You expect me to believe that?! The only way a prison riot could start and be stopped by a FUCKMOTHERING PLANE CRASHING INTO THE PRISON is if someone brought in a Black Stigmata! Someone brought the nail into the prison, and there is no way in Hell you left without it!”

“Yes, I had it when I left, but I buried it with the car!”

The professor stopped and looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean you buried it with the car?”

“When I woke up this morning, I put that woman’s body in her car and set it on fire to destroy the evidence. Then before I left, I took the Black Stigmata and I buried it so only I knew where it was!”

“You were able to leave it behind? You mean it didn’t stop you and force you to bring it with you? Nails don’t go dormant once the nature of their existence is discovered.”

“This morning it was silent! Apparently I had it in my stomach when I escaped from the prison, but this morning, it was in my hands and I didn’t hear anything from it didn’t stop me or anything! I just figured that it had spent so much energy with the riot and then possessing me that it had to sleep or something! I don’t know! All I did know was that I finally had a chance to get it away from me!”

“Spent so much energy that it had to sleep… Ah Hell, why not? Well as long as the nail is still there, we should be fine. As for you, hopefully there is still a chance for you to recover from the Black Stigmata’s control. Considering you’ve gone into the psychotic stage… your chances of full rehabilitation are very slim.”

“Forget recovery, I’ll be in jail for the rest of my life! I killed people, why should I care about getting well only to be sane in a prison cell?!”

“Oh stop being such a drama queen. You won’t go to jail. Hosts of the Black Stigmata are given some legal immunity for cases like these. It’s not like— Oh, hold on. I hear a coffee pot being filled with black gold and I refuse to say another word until it is running through my veins.”

Professor Nelson leaned against the kitchen sink, holding the coffee pot in his hand. Christi and Jason both had steaming mugs, but Nelson refused to drink out of anything smaller than the pot itself. Christi was sitting behind a protruding counter table that separated the kitchen from the dining room, keeping her distance from Jason, who was standing by the fridge. Strange that she would decide now to maintain an open space, considering that her panties were continuously moistening from the semen dripping out of her asshole.

“Ah, nectar of the gods…” Nelson muttered before chugging the black brew out of the pot like a frat boy drinking beer from a tap.

“So could either of you please explain to me what is going on?” Christi asked impatiently. Still drinking, Nelson held up his index finger to ask her to wait for a moment. With the pot more than half-empty, he finally took a deep breath and turned to her. She couldn’t see his eyes, as the steam from the coffee had fogged up his glasses beyond recognition.

“Whether you heard it from the news or Mr. Prison Break over here, a man named Tim Jones killed someone a few weeks ago. He was under the control of a relic known as the Black Stigmata. The Black Stigmata is a nail possessing a mind of its own with completely inhuman malice and evil. However, there is more than one Black Stigmata in the world. In all likelihood, there could be millions, tens of millions perhaps. These nails have two goals: to spread as much pain, suffering, and horror as possible, and to multiply like a virus.

They achieve this goal through finding a Host that they can latch onto and twisting into unwilling servants to fulfill its commands. Your boyfriend is one such Host. Jason, how many people have you killed? I know about the woman from last night, but I also know you couldn’t have killed that police officer.”

“I don’t know… maybe twenty? One of them was Miguel Hernandez, another host. He was the one who brought the nail into the prison. It was the twin of the nail I had. I blacked out and then found him dead. The rest were guards and prisoners who went blood-drunk in the riot. Oh god, I’m going to get the death penalty for this!” Jason exclaimed, inadvertently frightening Christi.

“What did I tell you about being a drama queen? Hosts of the Black Stigmata are victims and they gain certain legal leeway. You only killed that woman because you were possessed, am I right? You weren’t in control of your actions, that’s beyond committing a crime under simple duress. It’s not like you got drunk and ran her over, you can’t be held responsible for something that you had absolutely no control over. A cover story is already underway for her and Mr. … Hernandez? You said that was his name, right? As for the guards and prisoners, you killed them out of self-defense. Not only that, but they would just had died when the plane hit. You might has well have shot them on the days of their executions.”

“But you said that some of the most notorious mass murderers were likely hosts.”

“That’s true, but they were only arrested because they had killed too many people for a cover-up to be made, as well as to give some kind of consolation to the victims. Every death is of course a tragedy, but like I said, you can’t be held responsible.” He then turned back to Christi. “Not convinced? Then let me tell you this: Colleen Stevens had a Black Stigmata with her when she was attacked. It manipulated the emotions and thought processes of everyone in that room, escalating a simple argument into a brutal sexual assault. Think of it as like pumping a psychosis-inducing gas into a room full of people who already hate each other.”

“Oh my god…” Christi gasped, realizing that everything she was being told was true. No wonder Colleen always freaked out and mistook her for one of her attackers, her mind had been completely screwed up by this cursed nail!

“So what now?” Jason asked.

“We find a new place to put you until you recover. Unfortunately, with there no longer being prisoners in which to take up the courts’ time, we can’t continue the excuse that we’re waiting for you to go to “trial” for the death of that cop. However, you appear to be the only survivor of the prison riot, so the BSC will use that to their advantage. We’ll make it sound like you are suspected in being the instigator of the riot while an investigation into the incident is performed. You’ll be “detained” in another facility, until the investigation is complete, in which you’ll be found innocent in both cases.”

“How long is this thing going to run my life?”

Professor Nelson shot him an icy stare. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Jason stood in the doorway of Colleen’s hospital room, looking at her with his hands trembling at his sides. She did not know he was there; she was looking out the window like a mindless zombie. He was allowed to finally see her before restarting his rehabilitation, but while he had known it would be difficult, he had never expected it to be this brutal. The scars on her face were so clear that a hot knife might as well have branded them on her. Mixed with her saline solution IV, a heavy dose of morphine was entering her blood drop by drop. She was on a strict antibiotic regiment, both two prevent the infections she had sustained during her rape when she was sodomized and then vaginally penetrated, as well as prevent contamination as her lower body healed. She would likely need to see a plastic surgeon in order to make everything look right or even function.

“Colleen…” Jason murmured, knocking on her open door.

She turned to him, her eyes widening and with tears immediately streaming down her face. “Jason…” she cried.

Slowly he walked over and sat down in the chair beside her bed, but she tried to roll away from him. She could only look off back to the window, as her pelvic region was still too damaged for her to even lie on her side.

“Don’t look at me, I’m disgusting.”

Jason reached out and clutching her hand. “No, you’re not disgusting. You’re my little sister and you’re a victim, but in no way are you disgusting.”

She looked back at him. “You don’t know what they did to me. They recorded the whole thing and made me say what I wanted done to me. It hurt so much, I was in so much pain… yet I was completely honest. I said that you should rape me and I meant it, because it was what I deserved. They broke me. I’m nothing but a revolting little whore. You might as well just skull-fuck me right now and be on your way. Go ahead, take out your cock and I’ll suck it like the little slut I am. I’ll drink every drop of your cum. You should punish me for being so shameful.”

Colleen’s words sliced across Jason like a barrage of razor blades, making him feel like every vein had been severed and his warm blood was replaced with the frigid air outside the window. He had known when he came here that she would be traumatized by her experience, but he never imagined it would be this bad. Her mind had been twisted into an unrecognizable mess of pain and degradation. Was there any chance that she would recover from this? Would she spend the rest of her life punishing herself and putting herself down for cruelty that she never deserved in the first place?

He pressed his forehead against the back of her hand. “Colleen, this is my fault, this happened to you because of me. I exposed you to danger and hid in a prison cell when I should have been looking out for you. You didn’t mean anything you said, you were forced to lie for the sake of humiliation. You aren’t a whore or slut, you’re just a girl who was treated horribly by three monsters in humans’ skin.” Colleen didn’t reply, she only watched as the tears fell from his eyes and streamed down her wrist. “I have to go away for a while longer, but I will be back. Just please get better in that time, go back to your old self.”

Again, Colleen was silent, but the look in her eyes terrified Jason. With a sigh, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, then left.

Professor Nelson sat on a street bench in front of the hospital. This certainly was a frigid day, he couldn’t tell the difference between the smoke from his cigarette and his steaming breath. He looked over as Jason stepped out of the front doors of the building.

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. This happened to her because of me,” Jason said softly as he walked over and sat down beside the professor.

“Stop it, it wasn’t your fault. The Black Stigmata did this. There was nothing you could have done.”

“That look in Colleen’s eyes… I’ve seen it before. Last night… When I finished raping that woman… She looked up at me with those same eyes. They were the eyes of someone who would never recover, never heal. I remembered it at that moment when I was with my sister, seeing that same exact look. I think the most merciful thing I did last night… was leaning down and ripping out that woman’s throat. What I saw in that hospital room no different from the woman I tortured, but forced to endure the pain and shame instead of dying quickly.” Jason then turned to Professor Nelson. “And it’s the same look I always see in your eyes.”

“That was the gayest thing I ever heard,” Nelson scoffed as he stood up. Taking a few steps from the bench, he dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it. “I handed my resignation into SMCC. I’m no longer your teacher.”

“What will you do for money?”

“I’m always paid for my consultation work to the BSC. To be honest, I just became a teacher because I needed to get out of the house. I figure I’ll get the same fresh air if I work for the BSC full time. Besides, let’s just say that I don’t see a very bright future ahead of me… or anyone.”

“So the BSC… is there a recruitment program?”

Nelson turned to him. “Not to someone in your condition. Consider yourself lucky that you’re even out on the streets.”

“You just said that you don’t see a very bright future, well neither do I. I realized it yesterday in the prison, when I watched that plane strike the earth like a flaming hammer. I know in my gut that things are only going to escalate, and I don’t want to spend that time sitting in a jail cell, waiting for my sanity to return. I want to do something to prevent other people from becoming like my sister… or that woman from last night. There is no way out of this for me, so I might as well go deeper.”

At the declaration, Nelson gave a dry cackle. “How nostalgic to hear those words. Fine, I’ll see if the BSC will let you tag along with me. Just let me give you a little advice: when in the deepest and darkest caves, the sound of wind doesn’t mean you’re near the surface, it means the cave goes even deeper into the bowels of the underworld.”

Please comment! I’m dying here!

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