Wormhole Ch.2 (Updated)

Author’s Note:

Don’t know how many people will read it but here is the revamped version of Wormhole Chapters 2 of 5. I’m getting ready for a release on other sites so I felt it had to be done. Still the same continuity as chapters 6 and beyond, just spruced up with some extra bits added. Chapter 12 will be coming soon.

Enjoy and comment.

 

 

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It’s been almost four weeks since my arrival and boy, what an experience. Almost being racketeered into being a “package” delivery man for Pimps R’ Us was just the tip of the iceberg.

As far as I could tell, I wasn’t being hunted. The little “accident” with the happy gas soiled the memories of those girls as much as it soiled their panties. All the easier for me to disappear without a trace like Batman.

Another fun fact about wormholes: it’s a complicated process to conjure and control. Without going into boring detail, the wormhole portal closed behind me and I didn’t have nearly enough technology to generate another gateway back home. I was stuck here, whether I liked it or not. Speaking of technology, the loot that I carted away from the portal site had proved advantageous. Some navigational components, tools, and other beeps and blips of tech were one of a kind pieces in this world; and they all belonged to me. Sure they weren’t exactly ideal for setting up a formidable headquarters, but they might be useful down the line.

Now, on to the good stuff: the weaponry. I was already equipped with a set of LAD-42 handguns. These laser-firing babies gave me some much needed firepower, giving me combat choices ranging from a low-powered shots with the blunt force of mule kick to the deadly high penetration power of an armor piecing magnum round. These will be great whenever I run out of bubblegum to chew. As a sweet addition to my armor, I found a collapsible helmet that acted as a full armored face mask with a functioning visor and scanning system. Best of all was that I found a complete solar power set. I would have preferred a full-fledged generator over solar energy, but in a world without proper electricity, beggars can go fuck themselves on a carpet and let static electricity do the rest. I’ll take what I can get. As long as I had something to juice up my gear.

But every superhero, yeah right, needs a secret lair. Mine was a naturally formed chamber in between two massive rock formations. Inside, it was unremarkable to say the least but was pretty well hidden, considering. So all I had to do was slap together some furniture, steal a bench from the trash, and wire my solar set through it and, booyah, I had a literal man-cave all my own. Okay, it was not exactly a NASA R&D plant with a government budget as massive as Michael Moore’s ass, but it would act as my workshop where I could work undisturbed. And with all these ‘show and tell’ females wandering around, it would have been dirt simple to get some dirty pictures to hang on the walls and complete the mechanic shop atmosphere.

And also, no obnoxious kids to cut across my lawn.

My HQ was located not too far away from a town called Vallick, where I rented a room at the local hotel. I preferred a comfortable place to crash as opposed to sleeping with the insects on a mound of dirt. Now I had a real bed to sleep in… with some insect girls in the surrounding hotel rooms. Big improvement?

Ah Vallick, what a place to live. Vallick was a Demon Lord controlled town, full of both humans and monster girls. Definitely not the quietest place I could have hoped for, especially at night. That’s when the monster girls really go to town, so to speak. But now I’m getting ahead of myself.

As I spent lots of time in Vallick, I was able to do lots of digging to see what governs the land. Those bombshells I met earlier were not scarce; in fact, they were uncannily common. Now most guys probably wouldn’t give a dick scab about why and just get to doing things. In that regard, I could have devolved and let my instincts tango with the facts of life but I prefer to think with my other head.

To help me better understand the “wild life”, I bought a copy of a manuscript from some scholar I’d met. He claimed to have wandered from town to town and documented a bunch of information on these alluring creatures. It was a work in progress but hell, I would have even taken his notepad if it would help me figure some things out. Nevertheless, now I had something to read on the toilet. No, not in that way.

But now on to the big picture.

Long story short, too late I know, there are two factions. First there’s the Demon Lord and second, there’s the Order. Kind of sound vaguely Nazi, doesn’t it? Anyway, the Order wants to kill all the monster girls, or “mamano” for you politically correct folks out there, and the Demon Lord wants to change everyone into mamano because she’s just really nice and loving that way; seriously she claims to care so deeply for mankind. Nevertheless, that’s just the right recipe for conflict. And neither of them learned what the word “subtle” meant. The Order acts like a military regime and the Demon Lord sends out more mamano to bonk guys than a queen bee sends out her worker bees to bonk flowers. Why are they against each other? Well, why do cats and dogs fight? Because, that’s why. They just don’t get along in the grand scheme. Maybe the heads at the top were banging each other once and now have a messy divorce war going on over equitable distribution. Just imagine the custody battle…

Here’s the run down: these walking, talking Viagras used to be all animals; monsters in fact. What happened? The current Demon Lord now is a lascivious Succubus that gets all warm and tingly when around men and she was determined to spread that “special feeling” to all of the other monsters that she controls. So she turned them all into the dick-crazy, teenage fantasies they are now, changing their instincts from murdering men, to that of finding, pinning down, and raping guys into a black out. In other words, they still attack guys like they did once before… just in a very different way.

Eat, sleep, fuck. Easy enough.

So now, this world was crawling with hordes of overly sexualized nymphomaniacs more obsessed with testosterone than even men were. They came, bad pun, in all shapes and sizes to keep any fetish covered. How inclusive of them. Whether it’s furry hands, scaly feet, wings, claws, multiple legs, no legs, tentacles, or tails, you name they got it. The one common trait being that they were feminine in all the best places.

All things considered, this wasn’t the worst situation ever. I know plenty of guys who would trade their nut-sacks just for a chance to meet a girl as hot as any of these, as little sense as that makes. But an entire world of the biggest THOTs you’ve ever seen in your life? Strap in, because no guy would ever bring their “rocket” down from orbit again. And why should they? The only thing that matched the sex appeal of these babes was their lust for males; made construction workers look like nuns in a sausage factory. All they wanted was to screw a guy until their wombs fire out kids like an AK-47. Is it any wonder that Vallick got noisy at night? Very, very noisy.

So yeah, being in this real life hentai seems like a wet dream come true… but not for me. No I’m not gay. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s flattering as hell to have these stunning beauties trying to seduce me like I’m more of an alpha-male than Superman. It’s even more amusing when they rub those amazing bodies against me like a pussy cat begging for some catnip. And to be honest, it was tempting as all hell to give in and let these girls affectionately break my damn pelvis; it just comes with being a dude. But after a while, you get used to it. Sure, sexy-as-fuck is sexy-as-fuck but it gets old sooner than you think. At least for a misanthropic asshole like me. It makes things feel… cheap. You can call me a snarky, spiteful dumbass, and plenty of other nasty things for that matter, but a skirt-chaser isn’t one of them. I’d seen enough hot chicks in my life to know how hollow they could be, which only trained me to ignore them.

Besides, I’m suspicious by nature. Fuck, I couldn’t even pick up some change off the street without trying to spot the mamano who placed it there just to get me to bend over. But hey, that’s just me. When a beautiful woman approaches me and says “I have a thing for cynical, smart-mouth bastards whose imaginary friends even find him too much of a dick to hang out with. What position do you want to fuck me in?”, my response is “Alright, who do you want me to kill?” Yeah, Santa sends me a pre-burned lump of coal each year.

What was most skeptical to me was the fact that these mamano were not above using magic. Yeah this world had actual magic that you’d find in a Dungeons and Dragons game back on Earth; oh how the nerds would love that. Fireballs, lightning, and other Tolkien tools were fine and dandy, but the seduction spells, those were much more sinister in my eyes. That demonic energy the Demon Lord had passed on to all mamano was designed to heat a guy’s blood in the most carnal of ways. All these girls possessed it but if that wasn’t enough, they had plenty of mind games that came in a variety of flavors. Some girls hit guys hard, with all the subtlety of a clown swinging a chainsaw; pinning down and dominating the first piece of meat that crosses their path until he “love” her. While others are less flirtatious and more methodical in their approach. Some might say diabolical. They’d break a guy’s mind slowly over time with sweet acts of “affections” or just slip some of ingredients from their own body into his meal, just to speed things up. Either way, their tactics were deviously effective in getting men to seal the deal. God forbid they had access to Earth’s technology in pursuing their targets. With internet, phones, and satellites, you could say goodbye to right to privacy.

Whatever strategy they used, their goal was always the same. Find a guy and fuck him hard. Then once his screams of that particular type of rush turn to screams of mercy, they fuck him harder.

Should I have just laid back and enjoyed the ride? Maybe. I like sex as much as the next bar-hopper, but something about this sexually aggressive nature of the Demon Lord and her sleazy hookers just didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t help but question a few things…

Fortunately for me, I was much more of an enigma that I realized. As it turned out, I had an inexplicable immunity to magic. I’d seen guys acting like raging pricks one second, only for a mamano to bring them to their knees for a public femdom session the next. In my case, their magic tricks went through me like crap through a goose, so my brain was never clouded to mistake them as anything more than a skank. And boy, I turned lots of heads whenever I shrugged off a mamano going all femme fatale on me. It was always a thrill to ruthlessly taunt them and their useless efforts to sheath my meat sword. Hey, brashness is one of my better qualities.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Oh no. My biggest threat is some sexy chicks obsessed with fucking me but I couldn’t take these monster girls lightly. Even if they weren’t ripped as fuck, they were still freakishly strong. Something as small as Harpy with the body of a twelve year old was capable of going head to head with a trained Order soldier. Or in this case, hips to “head”

There was no law against rapists in this world and not all mamano took ‘no’ for an answer. See? Now that’s what you call a rape culture. The possibility of being molested, assaulted, ambushed, followed, threatened, poisoned, or wrangled by one of the more persistent types was always in the cards wherever I went. However, through some shrewd wordplay, clever forethought, and sneaky departures, I’d managed to escape several confrontations before things started escalating. But I wasn’t so stupid as to rely solely on my smarts like the helpless prey they thought I was. I always carried my “little friends” at my sides, just in case they didn’t understand the concept of a “strike out”. They may have been stronger than me but a few low-powered laser shots would dissuade them sufficiently. No matter how many lapdances I could have got, I had no intention of letting a Succubus walk me back to her hotel room on a leash for a kinky night of begging for treats and throwing bones around. Woof, woof.

In terms of my standing in this world, I’ve managed to live as a trader. Having exclusive access to a stash of one of a kind items made pocketing coins pretty easily. But it’s wasn’t the money that got me those lusty grins on a regular basis. Hell, I think any guy gets those kind of looks in this world. Even when I tried to lay low, mamano were always mentally undressing me wherever I went faster than you can say “strip-o-gram cop”. Granted, I didn’t exactly look like other human dudes. My Earthly armor made it hard to disappear in a crowd, which probably enticed mamano even more. Me a sex symbol? That’s a first.

In the interest of self preservation, I just had to stick to the plan: beat them off with a stick… just not with that stick.

But that was the least of my worries. I had bigger problems than a Holstaur’s breasts during pregnancy. As far as I knew I was stranded here, so I had to figure out some way to get back to Earth. Fuck if I knew how but, nevertheless, it was best to keep my eyes on the road and avoid unnecessary bullshit.

——————————————————————————————————

Today, I decided not to spend all day tinkering in my lab. I had some business in another town not too far from Vallick. Before I headed out for the day, I made a stop at my hotel room to pick up some items. I also needed a pit stop.

As I entered the lobby, I was approached by the Nurarihyon greeter at the door. As proper customer relations dictates, she threw her arms around my back and pressed her large chest against my smaller chest. “Welcome back to the ‘Awake All Night Hotel’. Where your needs are our-” I cut her off as I slithered out of her embrace. I’ve heard that “marketing” spiel from her several times before, even though I was already paying to stay here.

Next, I crossed paths with the manager of the hotel, Tifa. Tifa was a Vampire. I didn’t even need my manuscript to figure that one out. She always looked dressed to go to a Phantom of the Opera rave party. A white blouse and a tight, dark red corset that flowed into a short, orange patterned dress donned with a bright red frill. It clung to her frame, making sure not to hide her curves. Some golden chains hung in the front to add some class. Her stockings and cape, yeah she had a cape, were the same dark red color as well as patterned like her dress. What? You were expecting the Vampyra look? So was I.

Tifa had been eyeing me for a while now. Sure most girls openly offered to have sex with me but Tifa had the extra motivation of having her bedroom so close to mine. She could probably smell me through the wooden walls as she stirred her love pot at night.

“So we meat again, handsome” she flirted, as I’ve come to expect from her. Only this time she was actively blocking my passage up the stairs. Her face was deviously radiant as she locked on me. Fucking hell, time to verbally spar with her again.

“What now Tifa? The blood bank won’t give you another loan?” I jeered with a sigh.

En garde.

“Oh hush, Jason. Save that spunky attitude for the right time. Unless you’re feeling frisky right now…” she cooed as she gestured her head towards her room.

I actually prefer if she went for the blood in my throat over the blood in my manroot. She had sharp teeth, you know?

“How many times do I need to tell you ‘no’?”

“A little fun can’t hurt. Can it?” she said as she pushed her sizable breasts toward me. Dirty pillow talk, right?

“Listen Elvira. Unlike you, I can think about more than just a few fleeting moments of joy. I just want to be left in peace”

“Okay then. What if I told you that your joy could be longer than just a few moments?”

“Go suck down a plasma cocktail. You sound like you’re running low on fluids” I said as I scooted past her up the stairs.

“Maybe I will. I’m having sort of a party here tonight. It’s my five year anniversary since I opened the hotel. They’ll be food, drinks, and other girls too. I’d love for you to come”

Yeah I bet she’d love me to “come”, if you know what I mean.

“Wonderful. Now if I get the burning desire to get wrestled to the ground for a gang bang, I’ll know where to go. Don’t start bobbing for dicks without me” I said snidely as I turned the corner at the top of the stairs.

“I hope to see you tonight!” she yelled after me.

“I bet you do!” I called back.

Her party would probably resemble the opening scene from “Blade”. Only no Wesley Snipes to save my ass. Probably a good idea to sleep in my lab for the night. I wasn’t too keen on having that party crash onto me while I snoozed. But for now, I had business to attend to.

———

Hours later, I arrived in Dewcliff, another town controlled by the Demon Lord that acted as a major trading post in the region. Running a little low on cash, so I figured a laser pointer, an ion light up orb, and a radar tracking module would get me more than enough cash to pay my rent and buy my groceries.

I shuttered at the thought of being broke and having to “work it off” for Tifa.

Hitching up my horse, I caught something shitty in the corner of my eye. A girl appeared to be stuck in an outhouse. Like I said, shitty. How could someone be that stupid to get stuck in the crapper, you ask? By being a Mantis, that’s how. Yeah a Mantis was not exactly a intellectual giant; she looked like an insect and thought like an insect. Besides her feminine features, she also included a short, green exoskeleton-armored dress and matching scimitar-like blades extending from her forearms. Her thorax and wings were exactly like an insect’s. The antennae on her head spoke for her blank face, twitching with agitation as she fruitlessly tried to free herself from the embarrassing predicament.

Personally it would have been pretty fun to just see just how much more stuck her incompetence would get her, but screw it. I groaned to myself and got ready to get my hands dirty. Really dirty.

With her pretty but thoughtlessly blank face, I’m not sure she even noticed me come up to her. She had somehow wedged her blades deep into the door frame as she tried to leave, which she only made worse as she continuously tried to walk out normally, pushing them in deeper. Sure they were lethal with those weed-whackers, but in civilization, they were like a bull in a china shop.

Since she kept pointlessly tugging against the wood, I grabbed one of her arms to which she instantly tensed up along with her antennae focusing on me. I began to firmly push her blade backwards out of the wall of the shit stall. She didn’t put up a struggle as she blushed slightly and stared off unemotionally into the distance. Good, made my job easier. I didn’t like the idea of being in a confined space with someone who possessed big, fuck-off weapons. The last thing I wanted was for her to start zigging when I was zagging.

After one arm was free, I moved to the other and did the same. Once she was fully extricated, I dragged her out the door myself. With a simple doorway being this idiot’s kryptonite, she could have gotten stuck all over again. If she forgot to wipe, well, don’t look at me. She was on her own there.

Now free from that piss prison, she paused, clueless as ever. “You’re free, bug-brain. Now hit the road” I ordered her sharply several moments later. After another second of staring, she scurried away without a trace. Well, at least we didn’t have to destroy the entire outhouse to break her out. Then the shit would really have hit the fan. Speaking of which, maybe I should have held my breath.

Now where’s my Merit badge?

After my little Scout’s deed for the day, I entered the Murvont Exchange. It was crowded with lots people shopping for goodies or haggling with vendors. Reminded me of those Christmas expeditions through the mosh pits back on Earth, except without the malfunctioning droid clerks. Ah, the backed up lines of people groaning in unison because of a cheaply made register droid. Good times.

Greeting me at the door was a love knot. A Succubus and some guy were tangled together and Frenching the hell out of each other as they slammed against me, too busy to even care. Geez, how ridiculous can this get? Next thing you know, a Succubus will be pretending to be a vendor just as a clever ruse to snare a guy between her legs? Now know what form of payment they accept here. Classy.

But would this count as business credit or travel credit? After all, one of them is going for a ride?

“Hey, take that shit outside, you filthy animals” I grunted as I grabbed the two and forcibly shoved them out the door before they tied me up in their mess. They still had zero fucks to give.

Somebody get a bucket of cold water.

Now would be a good time to mention that a lot of these traders dealt with fetish items for mamano. So I never paid much attention to the other schmucks as I didn’t fall into that demographic. There was, however, one particular tradesman named Jacob who dealt with relics and other do-hickies. In addition to not asking too many questions about where my offers came from, he seemed down to Earth enough for me to get information from. He was professional enough to mind his own business and I intended to keep it that way.

As I swam through the sea of people, I closed in on Jacob, waiting in his stall. No customers, no waiting; good. “Ah, my favorite customer! So what kind of rare commodities are you packing today?” he burst loud enough to paint a target on my back for every pick-pocket in the whole damn shop.

Down to Earth albeit a bit boisterous.

“Thanks for the PR, Jake. But next time, you best curb that enthusiasm of yours. I’d hate to have that cute little Danuki down the street break up your little exclusivity deal, savvy?” Nothing like a little competition to make a salesman into your bitch.

After our little ritual of haggling, I bagged about 70 silver coins. I would have gotten more if I sold the radar device. But it strangely started beeping and signaling coordinates about two miles north of Vallick just before I made the sale. Morbid curiosity outweighed Jacob’s hunger for another trade, so I decided not to part with it. If the signal is nothing important, well Jacob wasn’t going anywhere. Especially now that he had settled down with his Jurougumo wife. I also noticed the big balloon in her abdomen when she briefly stepped out from the back to whisper something into Jacob’s ear… and nibble his lobe a little. His smile widened and his eyes twinkled as he watched her walk away.

“I doubt those scratches on your neck are from the razor blade you don’t own” I sassed Jacob about his admiration through his bearded grin.

“Don’t judge if you haven’t tried it” he replied, smile unwavering.

“Fine. Whatever tickles your pickle, I suppose”. I gathered up my money and left Jacob’s humble abode. I tipped him two extra silver coins before I left. He would need them in a few weeks.

Swimming back through the living bumper cars, I made by way to the door so I could breath again. But before I got to the exit, I was abruptly stopped by a chipper voice behind me.

“Interesting trade you made up there, stranger. Quite a bit of silver for one man. You have a name?”

Just as I feared; I caught someone’s attention because of Jacob’s big mouth.

I turned to see a woman. She was a little shorter than me, but was definitely human. I figured she didn’t own a brush because her dark brown hair looked full of dirty knots. She wore a dull grey tunic with slightly torn, brown pants and mud-stained shoes Her frame was skinny with glasses and wrinkles vexing her unimpressive facial features. Victoria should let her in on a few secrets.

“Those who hate me call me Jason. Those who like me also call me Jason. It means ‘someone who enjoys his drinking money’. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get a Bud Light beer into my mouth before I say something stupid” I answered as I turned back toward the door.

Quickly blow her off with some snarky gibberish and hopefully I was free to brood alone.

But Lady Luck strikes again as suddenly the woman whipped around in front of me, blocking the exit. My tactic of confusing people into oblivion had worked like a charm in the past, but this time it had failed.

She then proceeded to sniff the air in front of my face. “You don’t smell like a drunk to me, stud. You lack that backdoor, mud-bath kind of stench. You smell more like a wandering drifter. And a hint of beans”

Pushy, yet rude.

“What can I say, Raggedy Ann? I don’t wear deodorant anymore”

“Fascinating. So where are you from, exactly? A little farm on the prairie? A refugee from the stars? An escapee from a gladiator pit? A traveler from beyond the grave?”

For a screwball, she wasn’t too far off, considering.

“Yes to all four. Can I pass now?” I said, still hoping to escape by being more blunt this time.

“Great Homeland’s Fire! A multi-world individual! Say, I’d like to pick your brain for a while” she exclaimed.

I don’t think that was a request. If this girl found what I had to say fascinating, then I knew she had a problem. ‘Pick my brain’? I bet she actually would slice my head open for a peak.

“I think it’s your brain that needs picking, Harley. Shouldn’t you piss off? You’ll be late for your shock therapy in Bellevue”

My hopes of escaping were fading fast.

“Well I was going to go watch the Dhampir fencing tournament but now I got something, or rather someone, far more interesting to spend my afternoon with. So where are we going first?” she asked impishly jabbing my chest with her frail finger.

Fuck me with a cattle prod. She wasn’t going to let me go through that door alone was she? Now I was the one who had a problem.

———

She followed me over to some food stands, rambling the whole way about nonsensical crap. Her probing made her seem more like an annoying little sister than a psycho. Hell, let’s be generous and say that she was a psychotic little sister. And I was the grumpy older brother who had to babysit her. Seemed accurate since her pesky personality embarrassed me when we were around other people. She even bought the same bowl of potato salad and beer that I did, probably giving people the impression that I was her role model. I may just have to bag her and ship her by Priority Harpy Express to the middle of a lake somewhere.

As we sat down and had our lunch, I found that food proved ineffective in shutting her up.

“I don’t remember you saying where you came from” she said after a swig of her swamp water. She hadn’t even touched her potato salad. Now that I think about it, she had money?

“It’s because I didn’t say it. Now shut up until your food is gone?” I said irritably. I needed some quiet time to come up with a reason to leave. Maybe an aunt needed help chopping off chicken heads or something, I’m still working on it. But as soon as I went back to my salad, she quickly and enthusiastically tossed her salad off to the side, bowl and all. “Food’s gone” she smiled at her wry tactics. She rested her chin in her hands and waited for me to start talking, eyes wide with anticipation.

Look at that; she ain’t keeping the Earth green.

“I bet you eat your Snickers bars with a knife and fork” I said before I took another bite.

“No, I spend most of my days reading in the library. I don’t have much time to do anything exciting”

Yeah right.

“Being an inmate at a penitentiary must be fun for you. All nice and cozy in your little cage, talking to your invisible fairy friends”

“Well I plan on being a scholar one day”

“How about being a game show host… for gradeschoolers… on a sugar-high?”

She chuckled. “You do say the most intriguing things. Are you sure you’re not from beyond the grave?” she said with enough gusto to make a Necromancer proud.

“‘Fascinating’ is a subjective word. I’m more looked at as disturbed by others”. I was genuinely surprised that she wasn’t turned off by the things I was saying. Most other humans thought I was nuts. Read into that what you will.

“And that bothers you?”

“Not really. To make it through life, we all have to be a little crazy. Whether you’re a Harrison Ford or a Conan O’ Brien, we all belong in some form of a straight jacket”

“Is that why you wear those strange devices at your sides?”

“Well trouble and a crazy world is like a health hazard and Disney Universe; they just go together. So these little troubleshooters here act as my ‘get out of jail free’ card”

“Oooohhhh. Are they magic? Maybe some fairy dust or a witch’s formula?”. She started prodding at one of my guns.

“They’ve done wonders for me, so yeah you could call them my own personal Tinker Bells” I sneered as I swatted her hand away. That only made her laugh again.

“Ready and waiting, are you Jason? Do you seek out trouble or does it seek you out?”

“I’ve been around, so both, I guess. I’m no stranger to a scuffle”

She leaned in toward me. No nose action this time.

“What would a member of the Order be doing around mamano in Dewcliff?” she asked with some actual seriousness for the first time since she opened her mouth.

“The Order? Get out of here. I’m not part of their frat house round table and I never will be” I said matter-of-factly. She wants honesty, she’ll get it.

“You seem capable enough. They would make you a knight in a heartbeat”

“Big deal. They would probably take someone for wearing Chuck Norris underwear. Fascism loves any kind of meathead. I’ve seen it before; conquest because… why not? Well not me. I can at least think outside of my own skull”

“Do I detect a Demon Lord sympathizer?” she hinted slyly.

“Oh no! What then? You got a bazooka under that tunic of yours? Or are you going to have a sniper pick me off?” I hissed sarcastically. Although with this tramp, anything was possible. “Well tell your hit-squad to go on lunch break because no, I’m not on the Demon Lord’s side either”

She cocked her head like a pondering animal.

“That’s rather peculiar of you. Those who reject the Order often revel under the Demon Lord”

When she said “under”, she might mean that literally. But she wants more from me? Fine, right between the eyes.

“Like that bitch is any better. She’s as much of a greedy crusader as the clansmen who run the Order. I personally don’t take too kindly to someone trying to wipe out my race”

“But, she doesn’t kill anyone. She turns them into mamano… or so I’ve heard”

“Same difference. They wouldn’t be human anymore. I’d call that eliminating the human race. Killing just by another name”

“In that case, do you… wish all mamano didn’t exist?” she said with a slight and uncharacteristic frown forming on her face.

“That’s not it. They got a right to exist as much as humans like us. There’s room for both species. And if they wanna go through life without wearing panties, then go ahead. But the whole ‘free-loving’ thing went out of fashion. Preying on a male’s biggest weakness is sneaky enough, but those side-effects from their pussy only confirm that for me. They may see their own “peace offering” as a utopia, but if it comes at the cost of my literal humanity, then a couple rounds of hanky-panky with some dame isn’t worth it. I’m not looking to fuck up my life even more”

“Interesting” she said a little more lively. “From what I hear, most men who have laid with a mamano say it was exhilarating. In fact, they say their life improved vastly after meeting their mamano wife”

“What’s your point, exactly?”

“My point is that they seem happier under the Demon Lord’s rule than they did under the Order’s rule. The passion of their mamano wives didn’t only ignite their lust, but also touched their hearts. The way several men have shared the same devoted sentiment that their wives have suggests this is true. Just a noteworthy point” she commented while slyly leaning back in her seat.

“Noteworthy, huh? Well here’s something else noteworthy. How about this open secret called ‘demonic energy’? You gonna tell me that’s just a minor perk in the Demon Lord’s benefit package? Call me a pessimist, but I don’t think that little perk is only restricted to the bedroom, know what I mean? It’s like an internet connection in a thirteen-year old’s room; that shit is easily abused. When some asshole gets pinned and drained dry by one of those rape-happy chicks only to wake up they next morning with a ‘beautiful morning’ smile on their face, well, ‘stock-home syndrome’ is the nicest way I can describe it, sister” I huffed as I tried to hide my raising temperament.

“Well considering how physically superior mamano are, I say that sex is awfully generous of them, considering what they were like before the current Demon Lord. According to the studies, the power bestowed upon them by the Demon Lord only magnifies the pleasure during sex. And after all, men greatly enjoy sex, am I right?”

“Oh come on. They’re already sexy as hell. They don’t need that aphrodisiac brand of perfume to lure in the guys, so why use it at all, huh? And don’t bother telling me because I already know why; it’s so they can fog up dudes’ minds and brainwash them. They’re not looking to win a guy through his stomach, but through his dick. All too familiar where I come from but this gives new meaning to the term ‘mindfuck'”

“What makes you so sure that mamano’s feelings are so insidious? What if they’re deeper than that?”

“Romantic, but bullshit. Being a slave with benefits is still a slave. Deeper feelings my ass” I scoffed bluntly. “Fortunately, I’m covered if some bitch tries that demonic shit on me”

“Really? How?” she perked up with a keen radiance on her face.

“I’m wearing my lucky boots. So the choice is out of a mamano’s hands” I said with a shit-eating grin.

“Ha! You’re my kind of crazy!” she laughed. Well I suppose crazy is multidimensional.

We continued talking long enough that I lost track of time. I got to admit, she was ironically fun to listen to. Absolutely bonkers. Almost like watching a bad sci fi movie; completely nonsensical and absent-minded. She could be the host for both a game show and a talk show. I could see it now, “Time for ‘You Literally Bet Your Life’. Don’t forget your tasers”

Surprisingly, she kept most of the third degree out of the conversation from that point on. But we both babbled on about this and that as I found it fun to entertain her with my banter. Good audience for my snarky sarcasm. Oddly enough over time, I noticed sweat starting to drip down her flushed face as her breathing became more labored. Don’t tell me mental illnesses are contagious in this world. Maybe she needs more meds than I thought. She then inexplicably and frantically got up, bid me a quick, apologetic farewell, and power-walked away. Said she had to be at a meeting with her “associates”. Probably a book club with only three people; she, herself, and her. Strange girl indeed, but not boring to talk to. I told her it was fine that she left; I had to go chop off some chicken heads with my aunt.

Now I was free to head toward the mysterious signal.

———

I followed my radar tracker due north of Vallick for about an hour. I wasn’t really sure what I expected to find. Maybe some Witches reenacting “Macbeth” with a little Rule 34 added to their stew. Oh good, I once wanted to play that Peeping Tom called Macbeth when I was a kid. But my version of Macbeth would likely play target practice with the Witches instead of standing there like a dumbass in a puddle of his own piss.

Eateth superior firepower, ye suckers!

Although I would’ve taken the latter scenario instead of what I actually found. Upon coming to a grassy hill, I peered down. Above me was a light blue fog, signalling the arrival of another wormhole portal. Below it was an assortment of goods. Stockpiles of metallic crates, equipment, and other shit from another world scattered around the hill. I also spotted several large computer monitors laying at the bottom of the hill, smashed to bits or beat to hell. They didn’t look like the ones on Earth…

‘Oh shitballs. You gotta be fucking kidding me’ I thought to myself. Part of me was excited at the fact that another wormhole had opened up, showering me with more tech to build whatever Frankenstein experiments my imagination desired. However, panic had overtaken me. Fear and anxiety smothered out whatever giddiness I may have felt. Bad memories began to flood my mind. Flashbacks to times I would have rather forgotten about had filled me with apprehension as the shadows of the past threatened to became my future.

Another portal had opened, just like the one that crapped me out. I knew what it meant, but I didn’t want to believe it. A million thoughts ran through my head as I hurried down the hill, very few of them good.

Anticipating the worst, I drew my weapons and began searching the site. But don’t fool yourselves; I wasn’t scavenging through any of the boxes to see what loot they contained. No, that would come later. First I had to check for something else. I cautiously moved about the broken monitors and crates like a mouse, trying my best to stay covert.

As I moved around the back of a monitor, I found the piece of shit I feared the portal shat out. You see, you fuck-wad? You were right. So stop fucking lying to yourself.

Sitting down against a metal crate was a man. Well “man” wasn’t really the term I preferred to use. It might have passed for a human to an untrained and less cynical eye. But I damn well knew it wasn’t. Think of Spock from “Star Trek” and one of the Engineers from “Prometheus” had a summer romance together and the baby got shat out through Baraka’s ass. I recognized him; back on Earth, we called them Skarliks. I usually called them bastards, sons of bitches, motherfuckers, and a collection of other names.

If you can’t tell, I’ve had a history with this kind of scum. And it involved more than just unpaid money.

Fortunately for me, this one seemed injured. He clenched his ribs weakly, blue blood pouring through his fingers. He didn’t even know I had stumbled upon him as he was barely conscious. All the better. I readied my weapons and iron-sighted him, eager to see his brains paint the crate he leaned against.

Just before I pulled the triggers, something big and hard crashed into me with all the force of a train. The impact knocked me down the slope nearby. Needless to say, my guns didn’t bother joining me for the journey as they flew from my hands. After rolling to a stop at the bottom, I quickly regained my footing and poised myself against my unknown challenger. Yep, it was another Skarlik. Only this one wasn’t injured. In fact he looked pretty damn good; slightly bigger than me, muscular, and not very happy.

Oh well, I’ve been in worse situations. And those didn’t turn out too good in the end either.

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