Garanz2
Sep 1, 2004, 02:16 AM
This was a little point of debate for me. I mailed Dhylec and he says it's just about suitable for posting. This is a short fic coinciding with the were-rappy pic I posted here (http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/10182772/).
I went a little over the top, and this is a lot heavier than most of my writing, so I warn you now:
This is not a happy story. It does not have a happy plotline or a happy ending. It contains nudity, violence and gore.
On a lighter note, read it the whole way through and you might get a nice surprise plotline-wise.
-----Read on at your own risk-----
Three years after the Olga Flow incident, in Forest Area 3 - Four miles north of the (now derelict) central dome.
Rhynn planted her sword in the groud, squatted and removed the technical vambrace from her left arm in order to examine her wound. The rappys beak had gone right through her frame and barrier, smashing her wrist unit and creating a long shallow cut in her flesh. It bled a little, but the damage was minor. Knowing she'd had and endured far worse, she gently replaced the glove, flexing her fingers to make sure none of the nerves had been damaged. The vambrace, it seemed, was a little worse off. With the wrist unit broken, Rhynn realised that it was no longer able to project a frame or barrier around her. Her healing items, telepipes and MAG were still photonically stored inside, and could not be rematerialised until the equipment was repaired. Rhynn sighed and swore loudly. She would have to call it a day, and walk back to the teleporter to get to Pioneer Two. But the teleporter, although on the wide, well-defined path, was still several miles away. Glancing up at the sky, she realised that night was fast approaching. Even at a run, she doubted she could reach the outpost before night fell, and that thought made her feel distinctly vulnerable.
The young HUnewearl got to her feet and stepped up to the al rappy she had recently slain. The enormous two-hand sword she used had cut it almost in half, and yet it remained in a sitting position, silently staring and leaking blood. She knocked it to the ground with a distainful kick, worsening the damage and causing a spurt of blood and a little gore to spill from the grievous wound.
"Cheap shot."
A cool, early evening breeze played across her skin as she retrieved her sword. Rhynn shouldered the heavy blade and began trudge back along the path through the forest, along what she hoped was the fastest route back to the camp. The reddy-orange glow of the setting sun created beautiful reflections and patterns as it was refracted and broken into shafts by the leafy canopy. Rhynn however did not stop to admire the Ragolian sunset. Not this far into the forest without protection. She was eighteen, an adult in newman terms, yet with the toned body of an equivalent human. Barely old enough to apply for her own hunters' licence, and although inexperienced, holding only a clearance level of three, she liked to think of herself as a huntress with style. Her typical canary yellow hunting outfit, gently treading the line between a tank-top/shorts and a bikini, with a pair of matching knee-high boots, was well worn on, and off-ship. Not a poorly-endowed girl, She'd made experienced Humars lower their weapons and gawp after a fight, rather than recording their kills. Now, she regretted coming so lightly dressed and alone, as the cooling wind which would normally be reflected by her frame caused her to shiver. Much of her body was exposed to the elements, without the comforting whirr of a photonic barrier. The only protection she had was the thin, revealing layer of skimpy yellow leather over her chest, arm and hips.
Her fresh wound itched under the leather vambrace, yet she did not pay it any attention. The forest was dangerous at night, everyone knew that. Hunters below level thirty were strictly warned not to linger in the forest when the sun went down. Ryhnn quickened her pace. She'd have more than a niggling itch if she was gored by a hildebear, or mauled by a pack of goboomas. Coming to a stony clearing, Rhynn paused and looked once again towards the sky. The light of the sun was almost gone by now, replaced by a scuddy maelstrom of blue-grey clouds. Night had fallen, and looking around, Rhynn realised that this was not the way she had came. there had never been a rocky clearing on the path.
"Shiiiiit..." She moaned, sitting down on a large rock. The green light her sword provided was at least a little comforting, but she knew, with a twinge of fear, that she was lost. She came quickly to the conclusion, however, that a search party would be sent, and that she would be able to stay safe until morning if she stayed alert and did not leave the clearing. The nights were only moderately cold in this area of the planet. Rhynn scratched at the vambrace over her wound. It felt different somehow, as if the cut skin was no longer a part of her. Perhaps she was worse off than she had originally thought. Her left arm was beginning to feel numb, and flexing the fingers of her left hand yielded no feeling. She looked to the sky, scanning the heavens for Pioneer Two, where there were medical facilities, and people who worried about her. The dense cloud cover obscured much of the sky, making sight of the ship virtually impossible. Planting her sword tip-first into the ground, she stood up and stared into the sky at the rolling banks of clouds, waiting for them to reveal her home of nine years. The clouds gradually roiled and rolled across the sky. One of Ragols moons was visible, shining bright and full through the cloud cover. Rhynn looked at it, an object of outstanding celestial beauty. The view from Pioneer Two, Home, would be better, more romantic...
The beauty of the night was shattered as Rhynn gasped in pain. She siezed her stomach and heaved, violently throwing up. She vomited again, heaving liquid from the depths of her stomach. The HUnewearl dropped to one knee as she began to sweat, panting for breath. Her body began to ache, and a wave of nausea engulfed her. Rhynn threw up for a third time, widening the already substantial puddle of vomit.
The numbness of her arm began to spread across her body like a tide, as she lost feeling in her shoulder, then her neck and chest. Her right arm went dead, and she dropped to hands and knees as her legs lost all sense. Breathing in short, ragged gasps, Rhynn slowly began to sit up, with all sensitivity lost from her skin. Her legs began to ache as she rested her weight on them, trying desperately to stand, all strength gone from her body. As she got to her feet, dizzy and barely thinking coherently, her boots felt constrictive, as if resisting any movement of her legs. She placed her right boot on the heel of her left, then tryed to lift her leg from the boot. Somehow, it was now impossible. The boot was too tight a fit. Her feet felt pressured, as if they being squeezed into boots far too small for them. The pain increased as second of confusion passed, and a loud creaking sound drew Rhynn's attention as the boots began to come apart at the seams. One of the boots collapsed under the pressure, and the second quickly followed suit. Rhynn stared in dumbstruck horror as her feet grew outwards, greatly lengthening and slightly widening, destroying the boots completlely beyond repair. Her heels slowly began to elongate, and with a tearing sound broke through the last remnants of her boots. She flinched and stared in abject terror as her ten small toes merged togther into four thick ones, which grew further out from her feet, her toenails vanishing into the blunt, flexible lengths. Her heels grew similarly, forming fifth and sixth rear-facing digits which quickly stretched to a length competing with that of their forward-facing cousins, nearly tripling the length of her feet from end to end. With a sickening straining sound, long, sharp curved claws burst from the ends of each toe.
Putting her right hand to her mouth to stifle a scream, Rhynn started and pulled it back. Her hands were beginning to change the same way, ten long, delicate fingers melding into six blunt, wide appendages, neatly filed nails sinking and disintegrating. The left hand burst through the leather glove of the vambrace as it changed shape. More curved claws ejected from her fingers in the place of nails, and she held them at arm's length. This was impossible! This couldn't be real!
The HUnewearl's ragged, terrified breathing was broken as her jaw began to shift. her teeth melted together, creating long bone blades rather than grinding implements. Her upper jaw began to bulge forward, the blade lengthening and changing shape as it forced its' way through her mouth, distending her full, red lips and becoming curved at the end. The lower jaw copied the upper, becoming the bottom half of a long, curved beak. Rhynn's nose collapsed as the bones shifted within her skull, accomodating for the top of the beak to nestle between her wide, confused eyes. Two large nostrils opened in the top of the beak, yet Rhynn barely breathed as she shut her eyes, as if not seeing the changes would make them end. A bulky, chitinous plate bulged out from the top of the beak, spreading up her forehead, and two long, flexible antennae sprouted from it. Each appendage developed a large, sensitive pod at it's tip, whose weight drew the tips of the antennae down to rest a short distance behind her long ears.
Thoughts rushed through her head, logic lost in a chaotic maelstrom of pain and confusion. All she could do was moan pathetically in her distress. That had to be all! It had to stop! Her feet and hands began to lose their youthful softness, becoming yellowed, then developing hard scales. The scales spread up her legs, bursting from her calves and her hips. Rhynn's eyes increased in size, becoming larger and rounder, filling more of her face. The iris' changed from sky blue to earthy grey, and the pupils retreated into thin avian slits. Her terror slowly began to be repressed as her mind began to change, coherent thoughts and emotions disappearing into the instinct-driven mind of an animal. Some small vestige of newman mentality clung on momentarily, and tears flowed from her huge eyes as her mind screamed WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!
Rhynn flinched and gasped as her knees clicked and dislocated, the bones changing in shape and position. Her feet and hip joints remained unchanged as her knees inverted, clicking into their new places perfectly. Her lower legs and thighs lengthened by a few inches, lifting her higher off the ground, the enormous feet and powerful toes coming into play in order to keep her from overbalancing. The muscles in her upper legs gained bulk, quickly rounding and thickening beyond human proportion as they packed on layers of tight muscle. Rhynn's shorts gave way, snapping under the pressure of bulging hips now adapted only for sheer power. Thin membranes grew and spread from her underarms, conjoining her elbows with her wrists in flightless, winglike appendages. Nerves grew and crisscrossed across the wings in a somehow mesmerising crimson pattern of unnaturality.
Then, the feathers came. Lush, golden feathers sprouted in layers from her wrists, and layer by layer up her arms. The feathers were soft, yet strong, and many burst from the vambrace on her left arm, the ones underneath stretching the long glove to constrictive tightness. The feathers reached her shoulders, then covered her neck. Seeming almost to pause for a moment, the growth plunged downwards, feathers bursting from her chest and back in breathtaking patterns. The tank-top was stretched to it's limit, side seams tearing and weakening as the bounteous tan skin the garment normally held exploded with thick, golden feathers. Soft, white downy plumage erupted from her stomach and abdomen, fortunatly hiding her shame, framed by the yellow rapidly engulfing her rear and hips.
The numbness lifted.
The new creature blinked her large eyes. She flexed a sensitive antenna once, then twice, measuring the temperature of the air. She pawed at the yellow material painfully constricting her sensitive chest with a handclaw, lacking the knowledge to remove the garment. She emitted a low snarl as she realised her left wing was also tightly bound. Taking the torn hem of the vambrace in her beak, she yanked, noisily creating a long tear. Another similar motion tore the glove away completely, the shredded leather no longer constricting her wing. She pulled at one of the straps over her shoulder until it snapped, then repeating with the other, letting the top collapse, freeing her breasts and much of her chest from their painful constriction. The underarm straps remained out of reach of her beak and claws, forming a tight band around her wing-flaps and torso. Despite the pain, she decided to merely bear with the bondage for the time being, and, flexing a long leg, took a step forward, claws gouging the ground to keep balance. She sniffed the air. Quickly flicking her head left and right she took in her surroundings.
Rocks. Obstacles.
Shiny Stick. Useless, alien.
Trees. Cover. Hiding places.
Grass. Inedible.
Taking another step, then another, she began to walk into the trees. Taking long, leisurely strides. She began to work her way deeper into the forest, wide eyes bright and alert, constantly twitching and searching. Searching for what she desperately needed.
A slight movement caught her keen gaze, and her head shot round almost mechanically to focus on the dark, rugged shape in the darkness. She heard it sniff. It could smell her. She continued to stare towards the shape, remaining stock-still, leg raised in mid step. It was definitely afraid. She could sense it's fear. She could feel the terror oozing from it's every pore.
She sniffed, catching it's scent on the wind. A booma. A male past it's prime. Fat, stupid, and slow.
She let out a shrill, piercing shriek and charged, pounding great furrows into the earth with her clawed feet as she raised her handclaws. The booma turned and ran, roaring in fear. The were-rappy that had once been a HUnewearl sprinted in pursuit, taking enormous, effortless strides. The bouncing of her breasts was a hinderance, and their purpose in hunting was lost upon her, but even within moments, the squat booma was clearly visible, still running deperately but futilely from it's unntural pursuer. Heavy chest and snapping foliage forgotten, she broke into a full sprint. And then, she was upon it, tensing her enormous hips and leaping high into the air. The booma roared hoarsely in agony as six footclaws plunged deep into it's back, drawing a fountain of blood and severing a part of it's spine. Hurled to the earth by the weight of it's attacker, the booma could only struggle, it's once considerable strength waning as it waved it's claws, trying desperately to inflict a wound. A tearing sound rent the night as Rhynn's tortured tank-top caught on the booma's claw, ripped off her body by her prey's dying struggle. A second terrible, unnatural shriek ultimately smashed the tranquil of the night, and throbbed in the booma's ears as six handclaws tore its throat asunder. Only the echoes of that horrendous victory-cry remained as the world collapsed around it.
Tearing flesh from bone, disregarding fur and gouts of clinging blood, the were-rappy began to rip apart her grisly meal with her curved beak, pulling hunks of flesh from it's body and swallowing them in enormous gulps. And yet, when the booma was nothing but a scattered skeleton, flesh reduced to scraps, with inedible cartilage and organs skewed around the clearing, her hunger was not sated. Rising from the grisly scene, golden and white feathers ruffled and splattered with a kaleidoscope of oozing fluids, she silently began to scan the area for movement. Shaking off the worst of the blood, she strutted away and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, ferally salivating, hungering for fresh meat...
-----
The morning sun shone through a gap in the thick tree canopy, falling upon a prone figure. The HUnewearl, no older than eighteen, groaned and stirred. Rhynn opened her eyes a fraction, and was blinded by the unexpected glare of the sunlight. Fighting an unstoppable wave of nausea, she opened her eyes more fully and raised her head. A warming gust of morning blew through the trees and caressed her smooth skin with soft hands. Her eyes shot open with sudden realisation of her nudity. Her top was gone, her shorts were gone, her boots torn and broken beyond recognition. Scrabbling into a sitting position, she found that her torso and face were smeared in congealing orange blood. Wretching heavily and sitting up further, she flinched and cried out with a sudden painful cramp. The HUnewearl felt bloated, her stomach had developed a visibly noticable and tightly painful bump. Gasping and wretching in pain, she violently threw up on the forest floor. The sick was the consistency of porridge, and contained what seemed to be meat and small bones. Breathing heavily, irregularly, Rhynn fell back into the grass, eyes wide, clutching her belly. She had no recollection of what had happened, the time between arriving in the rocky clearing and waking up a total blank in her mind. Rhynn sobbed and began to cry, with no idea of how she had gotten to be in this near-helpless state.
-----
Natalya, my Humarl partner, and I came across Rhynn a few beats later, having been sent to look for a HUnewearl who had not returned from an expedition. I unequipped my Baranz Launcher and gathered her up in my arms. Barely breathing, incoherent. My cold, hard RAcast arms may not have offered much comfort, but at least...to her...they meant safety. Natalya opened a telepipe and I stepped in, nodding for her to join me. Despite that fact that I was a machine, we did not need to communicate. Natalya and I understood each other well enough not to need to. We didn't know what had happened to Rhynn, and doubtless, neither did she. We did our duty in returning her to a medical station and trying to help her recover mentally. Nothing more. We didn't know that on the next full moon, she would tear Natalya's heart out with avian claws. We didn't know that on the next full moon, the discovery of Natalya's disfigured corpse would break the heart of her twin sister Anita, who would take concentated trifluid out of despair, suffering a self-inflicted aneurysm through overdose seconds before I arrived. We didn't know, that on the next full moon, I would smash the beasts skull in grief, then hold her by the neck from a tower in the heart of Pioneer Two.
I didn't know, that on the next full moon, as I held her broken, limp body over the lip of the tower, high above the bustling, unknowing streets of the ship I called my home, I would stare into her huge bird eyes with my cold, android visor, and she would somehow whisper though her beak... despite the orange blood seeping from it...
"Kill me..."
The only way to break that begging, desperate, despiccably pathetic gaze... That gaze that even I, a machine, am unable to forget... was to drop her... to surrender her to the streets...
I hadn't the heart to watch her fall.
- Garanz MK.II
<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Garanz2 on 2004-09-02 17:59 ]</font>
I went a little over the top, and this is a lot heavier than most of my writing, so I warn you now:
This is not a happy story. It does not have a happy plotline or a happy ending. It contains nudity, violence and gore.
On a lighter note, read it the whole way through and you might get a nice surprise plotline-wise.
-----Read on at your own risk-----
Three years after the Olga Flow incident, in Forest Area 3 - Four miles north of the (now derelict) central dome.
Rhynn planted her sword in the groud, squatted and removed the technical vambrace from her left arm in order to examine her wound. The rappys beak had gone right through her frame and barrier, smashing her wrist unit and creating a long shallow cut in her flesh. It bled a little, but the damage was minor. Knowing she'd had and endured far worse, she gently replaced the glove, flexing her fingers to make sure none of the nerves had been damaged. The vambrace, it seemed, was a little worse off. With the wrist unit broken, Rhynn realised that it was no longer able to project a frame or barrier around her. Her healing items, telepipes and MAG were still photonically stored inside, and could not be rematerialised until the equipment was repaired. Rhynn sighed and swore loudly. She would have to call it a day, and walk back to the teleporter to get to Pioneer Two. But the teleporter, although on the wide, well-defined path, was still several miles away. Glancing up at the sky, she realised that night was fast approaching. Even at a run, she doubted she could reach the outpost before night fell, and that thought made her feel distinctly vulnerable.
The young HUnewearl got to her feet and stepped up to the al rappy she had recently slain. The enormous two-hand sword she used had cut it almost in half, and yet it remained in a sitting position, silently staring and leaking blood. She knocked it to the ground with a distainful kick, worsening the damage and causing a spurt of blood and a little gore to spill from the grievous wound.
"Cheap shot."
A cool, early evening breeze played across her skin as she retrieved her sword. Rhynn shouldered the heavy blade and began trudge back along the path through the forest, along what she hoped was the fastest route back to the camp. The reddy-orange glow of the setting sun created beautiful reflections and patterns as it was refracted and broken into shafts by the leafy canopy. Rhynn however did not stop to admire the Ragolian sunset. Not this far into the forest without protection. She was eighteen, an adult in newman terms, yet with the toned body of an equivalent human. Barely old enough to apply for her own hunters' licence, and although inexperienced, holding only a clearance level of three, she liked to think of herself as a huntress with style. Her typical canary yellow hunting outfit, gently treading the line between a tank-top/shorts and a bikini, with a pair of matching knee-high boots, was well worn on, and off-ship. Not a poorly-endowed girl, She'd made experienced Humars lower their weapons and gawp after a fight, rather than recording their kills. Now, she regretted coming so lightly dressed and alone, as the cooling wind which would normally be reflected by her frame caused her to shiver. Much of her body was exposed to the elements, without the comforting whirr of a photonic barrier. The only protection she had was the thin, revealing layer of skimpy yellow leather over her chest, arm and hips.
Her fresh wound itched under the leather vambrace, yet she did not pay it any attention. The forest was dangerous at night, everyone knew that. Hunters below level thirty were strictly warned not to linger in the forest when the sun went down. Ryhnn quickened her pace. She'd have more than a niggling itch if she was gored by a hildebear, or mauled by a pack of goboomas. Coming to a stony clearing, Rhynn paused and looked once again towards the sky. The light of the sun was almost gone by now, replaced by a scuddy maelstrom of blue-grey clouds. Night had fallen, and looking around, Rhynn realised that this was not the way she had came. there had never been a rocky clearing on the path.
"Shiiiiit..." She moaned, sitting down on a large rock. The green light her sword provided was at least a little comforting, but she knew, with a twinge of fear, that she was lost. She came quickly to the conclusion, however, that a search party would be sent, and that she would be able to stay safe until morning if she stayed alert and did not leave the clearing. The nights were only moderately cold in this area of the planet. Rhynn scratched at the vambrace over her wound. It felt different somehow, as if the cut skin was no longer a part of her. Perhaps she was worse off than she had originally thought. Her left arm was beginning to feel numb, and flexing the fingers of her left hand yielded no feeling. She looked to the sky, scanning the heavens for Pioneer Two, where there were medical facilities, and people who worried about her. The dense cloud cover obscured much of the sky, making sight of the ship virtually impossible. Planting her sword tip-first into the ground, she stood up and stared into the sky at the rolling banks of clouds, waiting for them to reveal her home of nine years. The clouds gradually roiled and rolled across the sky. One of Ragols moons was visible, shining bright and full through the cloud cover. Rhynn looked at it, an object of outstanding celestial beauty. The view from Pioneer Two, Home, would be better, more romantic...
The beauty of the night was shattered as Rhynn gasped in pain. She siezed her stomach and heaved, violently throwing up. She vomited again, heaving liquid from the depths of her stomach. The HUnewearl dropped to one knee as she began to sweat, panting for breath. Her body began to ache, and a wave of nausea engulfed her. Rhynn threw up for a third time, widening the already substantial puddle of vomit.
The numbness of her arm began to spread across her body like a tide, as she lost feeling in her shoulder, then her neck and chest. Her right arm went dead, and she dropped to hands and knees as her legs lost all sense. Breathing in short, ragged gasps, Rhynn slowly began to sit up, with all sensitivity lost from her skin. Her legs began to ache as she rested her weight on them, trying desperately to stand, all strength gone from her body. As she got to her feet, dizzy and barely thinking coherently, her boots felt constrictive, as if resisting any movement of her legs. She placed her right boot on the heel of her left, then tryed to lift her leg from the boot. Somehow, it was now impossible. The boot was too tight a fit. Her feet felt pressured, as if they being squeezed into boots far too small for them. The pain increased as second of confusion passed, and a loud creaking sound drew Rhynn's attention as the boots began to come apart at the seams. One of the boots collapsed under the pressure, and the second quickly followed suit. Rhynn stared in dumbstruck horror as her feet grew outwards, greatly lengthening and slightly widening, destroying the boots completlely beyond repair. Her heels slowly began to elongate, and with a tearing sound broke through the last remnants of her boots. She flinched and stared in abject terror as her ten small toes merged togther into four thick ones, which grew further out from her feet, her toenails vanishing into the blunt, flexible lengths. Her heels grew similarly, forming fifth and sixth rear-facing digits which quickly stretched to a length competing with that of their forward-facing cousins, nearly tripling the length of her feet from end to end. With a sickening straining sound, long, sharp curved claws burst from the ends of each toe.
Putting her right hand to her mouth to stifle a scream, Rhynn started and pulled it back. Her hands were beginning to change the same way, ten long, delicate fingers melding into six blunt, wide appendages, neatly filed nails sinking and disintegrating. The left hand burst through the leather glove of the vambrace as it changed shape. More curved claws ejected from her fingers in the place of nails, and she held them at arm's length. This was impossible! This couldn't be real!
The HUnewearl's ragged, terrified breathing was broken as her jaw began to shift. her teeth melted together, creating long bone blades rather than grinding implements. Her upper jaw began to bulge forward, the blade lengthening and changing shape as it forced its' way through her mouth, distending her full, red lips and becoming curved at the end. The lower jaw copied the upper, becoming the bottom half of a long, curved beak. Rhynn's nose collapsed as the bones shifted within her skull, accomodating for the top of the beak to nestle between her wide, confused eyes. Two large nostrils opened in the top of the beak, yet Rhynn barely breathed as she shut her eyes, as if not seeing the changes would make them end. A bulky, chitinous plate bulged out from the top of the beak, spreading up her forehead, and two long, flexible antennae sprouted from it. Each appendage developed a large, sensitive pod at it's tip, whose weight drew the tips of the antennae down to rest a short distance behind her long ears.
Thoughts rushed through her head, logic lost in a chaotic maelstrom of pain and confusion. All she could do was moan pathetically in her distress. That had to be all! It had to stop! Her feet and hands began to lose their youthful softness, becoming yellowed, then developing hard scales. The scales spread up her legs, bursting from her calves and her hips. Rhynn's eyes increased in size, becoming larger and rounder, filling more of her face. The iris' changed from sky blue to earthy grey, and the pupils retreated into thin avian slits. Her terror slowly began to be repressed as her mind began to change, coherent thoughts and emotions disappearing into the instinct-driven mind of an animal. Some small vestige of newman mentality clung on momentarily, and tears flowed from her huge eyes as her mind screamed WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!
Rhynn flinched and gasped as her knees clicked and dislocated, the bones changing in shape and position. Her feet and hip joints remained unchanged as her knees inverted, clicking into their new places perfectly. Her lower legs and thighs lengthened by a few inches, lifting her higher off the ground, the enormous feet and powerful toes coming into play in order to keep her from overbalancing. The muscles in her upper legs gained bulk, quickly rounding and thickening beyond human proportion as they packed on layers of tight muscle. Rhynn's shorts gave way, snapping under the pressure of bulging hips now adapted only for sheer power. Thin membranes grew and spread from her underarms, conjoining her elbows with her wrists in flightless, winglike appendages. Nerves grew and crisscrossed across the wings in a somehow mesmerising crimson pattern of unnaturality.
Then, the feathers came. Lush, golden feathers sprouted in layers from her wrists, and layer by layer up her arms. The feathers were soft, yet strong, and many burst from the vambrace on her left arm, the ones underneath stretching the long glove to constrictive tightness. The feathers reached her shoulders, then covered her neck. Seeming almost to pause for a moment, the growth plunged downwards, feathers bursting from her chest and back in breathtaking patterns. The tank-top was stretched to it's limit, side seams tearing and weakening as the bounteous tan skin the garment normally held exploded with thick, golden feathers. Soft, white downy plumage erupted from her stomach and abdomen, fortunatly hiding her shame, framed by the yellow rapidly engulfing her rear and hips.
The numbness lifted.
The new creature blinked her large eyes. She flexed a sensitive antenna once, then twice, measuring the temperature of the air. She pawed at the yellow material painfully constricting her sensitive chest with a handclaw, lacking the knowledge to remove the garment. She emitted a low snarl as she realised her left wing was also tightly bound. Taking the torn hem of the vambrace in her beak, she yanked, noisily creating a long tear. Another similar motion tore the glove away completely, the shredded leather no longer constricting her wing. She pulled at one of the straps over her shoulder until it snapped, then repeating with the other, letting the top collapse, freeing her breasts and much of her chest from their painful constriction. The underarm straps remained out of reach of her beak and claws, forming a tight band around her wing-flaps and torso. Despite the pain, she decided to merely bear with the bondage for the time being, and, flexing a long leg, took a step forward, claws gouging the ground to keep balance. She sniffed the air. Quickly flicking her head left and right she took in her surroundings.
Rocks. Obstacles.
Shiny Stick. Useless, alien.
Trees. Cover. Hiding places.
Grass. Inedible.
Taking another step, then another, she began to walk into the trees. Taking long, leisurely strides. She began to work her way deeper into the forest, wide eyes bright and alert, constantly twitching and searching. Searching for what she desperately needed.
A slight movement caught her keen gaze, and her head shot round almost mechanically to focus on the dark, rugged shape in the darkness. She heard it sniff. It could smell her. She continued to stare towards the shape, remaining stock-still, leg raised in mid step. It was definitely afraid. She could sense it's fear. She could feel the terror oozing from it's every pore.
She sniffed, catching it's scent on the wind. A booma. A male past it's prime. Fat, stupid, and slow.
She let out a shrill, piercing shriek and charged, pounding great furrows into the earth with her clawed feet as she raised her handclaws. The booma turned and ran, roaring in fear. The were-rappy that had once been a HUnewearl sprinted in pursuit, taking enormous, effortless strides. The bouncing of her breasts was a hinderance, and their purpose in hunting was lost upon her, but even within moments, the squat booma was clearly visible, still running deperately but futilely from it's unntural pursuer. Heavy chest and snapping foliage forgotten, she broke into a full sprint. And then, she was upon it, tensing her enormous hips and leaping high into the air. The booma roared hoarsely in agony as six footclaws plunged deep into it's back, drawing a fountain of blood and severing a part of it's spine. Hurled to the earth by the weight of it's attacker, the booma could only struggle, it's once considerable strength waning as it waved it's claws, trying desperately to inflict a wound. A tearing sound rent the night as Rhynn's tortured tank-top caught on the booma's claw, ripped off her body by her prey's dying struggle. A second terrible, unnatural shriek ultimately smashed the tranquil of the night, and throbbed in the booma's ears as six handclaws tore its throat asunder. Only the echoes of that horrendous victory-cry remained as the world collapsed around it.
Tearing flesh from bone, disregarding fur and gouts of clinging blood, the were-rappy began to rip apart her grisly meal with her curved beak, pulling hunks of flesh from it's body and swallowing them in enormous gulps. And yet, when the booma was nothing but a scattered skeleton, flesh reduced to scraps, with inedible cartilage and organs skewed around the clearing, her hunger was not sated. Rising from the grisly scene, golden and white feathers ruffled and splattered with a kaleidoscope of oozing fluids, she silently began to scan the area for movement. Shaking off the worst of the blood, she strutted away and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, ferally salivating, hungering for fresh meat...
-----
The morning sun shone through a gap in the thick tree canopy, falling upon a prone figure. The HUnewearl, no older than eighteen, groaned and stirred. Rhynn opened her eyes a fraction, and was blinded by the unexpected glare of the sunlight. Fighting an unstoppable wave of nausea, she opened her eyes more fully and raised her head. A warming gust of morning blew through the trees and caressed her smooth skin with soft hands. Her eyes shot open with sudden realisation of her nudity. Her top was gone, her shorts were gone, her boots torn and broken beyond recognition. Scrabbling into a sitting position, she found that her torso and face were smeared in congealing orange blood. Wretching heavily and sitting up further, she flinched and cried out with a sudden painful cramp. The HUnewearl felt bloated, her stomach had developed a visibly noticable and tightly painful bump. Gasping and wretching in pain, she violently threw up on the forest floor. The sick was the consistency of porridge, and contained what seemed to be meat and small bones. Breathing heavily, irregularly, Rhynn fell back into the grass, eyes wide, clutching her belly. She had no recollection of what had happened, the time between arriving in the rocky clearing and waking up a total blank in her mind. Rhynn sobbed and began to cry, with no idea of how she had gotten to be in this near-helpless state.
-----
Natalya, my Humarl partner, and I came across Rhynn a few beats later, having been sent to look for a HUnewearl who had not returned from an expedition. I unequipped my Baranz Launcher and gathered her up in my arms. Barely breathing, incoherent. My cold, hard RAcast arms may not have offered much comfort, but at least...to her...they meant safety. Natalya opened a telepipe and I stepped in, nodding for her to join me. Despite that fact that I was a machine, we did not need to communicate. Natalya and I understood each other well enough not to need to. We didn't know what had happened to Rhynn, and doubtless, neither did she. We did our duty in returning her to a medical station and trying to help her recover mentally. Nothing more. We didn't know that on the next full moon, she would tear Natalya's heart out with avian claws. We didn't know that on the next full moon, the discovery of Natalya's disfigured corpse would break the heart of her twin sister Anita, who would take concentated trifluid out of despair, suffering a self-inflicted aneurysm through overdose seconds before I arrived. We didn't know, that on the next full moon, I would smash the beasts skull in grief, then hold her by the neck from a tower in the heart of Pioneer Two.
I didn't know, that on the next full moon, as I held her broken, limp body over the lip of the tower, high above the bustling, unknowing streets of the ship I called my home, I would stare into her huge bird eyes with my cold, android visor, and she would somehow whisper though her beak... despite the orange blood seeping from it...
"Kill me..."
The only way to break that begging, desperate, despiccably pathetic gaze... That gaze that even I, a machine, am unable to forget... was to drop her... to surrender her to the streets...
I hadn't the heart to watch her fall.
- Garanz MK.II
<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Garanz2 on 2004-09-02 17:59 ]</font>