A Felony with a Fungus

“What are you doing? Get over here and pick me up, you simpleton.”

I look over at my addressor and sigh. Bossy and crude as always, she lay upon her, well MY, bed, frowning at me to get over and pick her up.

“Yes, your Highness.” I reply back as I walk over to scoop up the one who called me, for she could not do it herself, what with being a Matango and all. Though she is rather heavy, I manage to lift her up in my arms, feeling the warm and springy material of her body against my chest, and she puts on an imperious face as she speaks in her characteristic British accent,

“Hmph, I expect a little more dignity from my subjects then.”

I stare at the monster girl in my arms with a flat expression. Matangos were not exactly the most loved Monster girls in the world, in fact they were widely regarded as utter parasites and many, many years ago they had been all but eradicated by various church organizations or governments over the years. Due to their nature of reproducing by infecting human women with their spores and transforming them into more of the mushroom headed monsters, this made it rather difficult to fully eradicate them. Many times outbreaks would be put down as something like “Smallpox” or “Influenza” and the infected put to the torch with none the wiser.

It wasn’t until recently that monster girls became truly public in the world and Matangos became known to humanity. They were still a problem of course, but since they used to be human, killing them was frowned upon, especially as the only remaining subjects were in isolated colonies or government supervision. With the help of modern medicine though, a preventative for their spores was created and they were tentatively allowed into human society with many, many rules of probation on releasing their spores. Needless to say, I had the vaccine.

This particular fungus nestled in my arms was only what could be described as an “aberrant” of her species. Generally they were slow-witted, or perhaps their wits were only devoted sex, probably due to the fungus in their brains. She, however, had almost no sex drive. Oh yes, she was utterly gorgeous, a little under average height, but with wide hips, modest bust, and a positively radiant face that belied her true nature as a self-absorbed little twat. That dichotomy of personality and beauty was probably what made her so annoying and yet interesting.

She gently brushes away a strand of long, black hair from her eyes, which sparkle with a deep intelligence and cunning, and the large red and white mushroom cap upon her head twitches slightly.

“Well, are you going to put me into my chair, or aren’t you?”

I blink, jolting back into the present and trudge over to the wheelchair in the corner of the small room to deposit the woman, who settles down in it, trying to get comfortable while sliding her fused leg-roots into the chair. When she first tried to get into the wheelchair, she had extra mushrooms growing on her person and, needless to say, it didn’t really work, so she was forced to remove them. Doing so however made her white, springy skin more apparent, and since she didn’t bother to wear clothes except when in public, it sort of made her rather attractive body very… apparent.

She looks at me oddly before rolling her eyes and wheeling over to a desk where she turns on a desktop computer and deftly logs in, accessing files before  waving me over. I shrug and do so as she points to something on what looks like building schematics for a bank. On closer examination, the particular section was the bank’s singular vault.

“There it is my boy, that’s where our meal ticket is headed today.”

“And you’re certain it will be there?” I ask, studying the plans as I had for the thousandth time. I knew it by heart, but in this business, you couldn’t be too careful.

She scoffs, seeming offended, “Do you think I’m like all those other, dull-witted little simpletons, content to stay in the ground all day and have cocks shoved up their greedy little snatches?”

I’m about to say something in rebuttal when she raises a hand to cut me off, “No, don’t answer that, else I’ll have to punish you.”

Sadly she probably could, despite having no martial aptitude and pretty slim physique, she could easily tap into that crazy monster power or whatever to lay me out. Might be a little hard, what with the whole wheelchair thing, but I didn’t really want to find out so I relent, rolling my eyes.

“Now then, I trust you remember the plan, or did the luckless idiot who picked me up happen to have difficulty remembering his part?”

I grit my teeth. This was almost a daily occurrence with her, every since I found her rooted in a grove outside of London nearly six months ago. In all that time, she was nothing but rude, condescending, and rather disagreeable.Her drive and lust for money, however, was not.

Perhaps in her past life as human, she was some kind of con-woman or something, but as a Matango she did not amass the lust for a man’s throbbing member the others did, but instead she swelled with a lust for adventure, monetary gains, and power. She was as corrupt as one could possibly be, almost to the point it was sickening.

Which suited me just fine, because I was quite corrupt myself. Mugging? Check. Larceny? Check. Grand Theft Auto? Oh you better believe, check. In fact, the only thing I don’t do is murder because there’s no profit in it, just a mess for everyone involved.

“I could have just left you rooted in the ground there you know.” I retort back,not able to help myself this time.

“What? And miss looking at this every day?” She says, raising an eyebrow while running a hand down her body.

I snort, “You know damn well that something like that only works when you give a little something every now and then.”

“Oh? Well if you’d just ask…”

I look at her square in the face, to see the glimmers of a feral hunger in her eyes, a sort of internal beast that screamed and railed within her for release. It called for her to run her hands all over my body and extract my very seed using any means at her disposal. It was a sick, depraved lust, but it wasn’t any kind of love or affection, merely unrefined carnal emotions. It was as rough and coarse as her personality, yet it stirred similar feelings that lay dormant within myself, and I find myself replying with a grunt,

“Sure, let’s do this.”

Her eyes go wide as she looks at me, and the caged beast is put under a further series of locks before she turns away, waving her hand dismissively. Despite the fact her back was turned to me, I knew she was blushing.

“We have no time for such pathetic frivolities, we must continue our preparations for this evening.”

I chuckle softly, having won this little battle, yet inside I felt a certain sense of loss, as if I had witnessed something valuable being taken from me right before my eyes. Well, alright then, if that’s how she wants to play it, cool and professional, that’s fine. I could do this without any attachments, as she made it perfectly clear that when this was all over, we’d go our separate ways . We both knew that we only used each other for our skills in crime, her with computers, and I with the wetwork.

It still… sort of hurt for some reason.

“Yeah, whatever.” I say, shaking my head, “With all your taunting, I wonder if YOU remember the plan.”

She gives me a side-long glance that could freeze water before flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Hmph. How insulting, however for YOUR sake, I shall explain myself again.”

She clicks something with the mouse and a few windows appear on the screen. “As you well know, our goal for this, our reason for even being cooped up together in this miserable little flat…”

“My apartment, which is very lovely, thank you.” I interject. She seems to ignore this as she continues,

“Is the Golden Statue to Lama-ra, which is to be deposited secretly in this bank tonight to be transported out tomorrow.”

The statue was made of solid gold, depicting an ancient Lamia Queen who ruled over various other monsters with her husband, a brave Hero who was said to have even slain a Goddess. The story was fantasy, of course, however the statue was quite assuredly worth a small fortune. How she even learned of its existence while being rooted outside of town, I will never know, because she won’t tell me, the smug bitch.

“Now then, because they foolishly believe it to be secret, the security detail is lax, and the vault is rather pathetic. It should be easy to hack into their systems and get you access.”

I raise a hand, “What about the lasers?”

“They don’t have lasers you half-wit.”

“What about the robots guards?”

“I swear to the Gods above, why did I ever think I could work with you? You have no work ethic, you’re a lazy lout, and you make pathetic jokes in the hopes of getting a rise out of me!”

I smile because she was right and it was amusing to see her white cheeks grow rosy. When she got mad, she started to sprout mushrooms, and I could see one appearing on her right arm, which she notices at with an annoyed expression. It was too small to tear off yet, so she’d have to live with it, serves her right.

I raise my hands in a calming gesture, “Now now, don’t get so worked up, I’m having a little fun is all. I know that all they’ll have is some motion detectors, the guards, cameras, and the vault itself.”

She huffs, blowing some hair out of her face. “Bastard. Yes, well then, I can disable the motion detectors and the cameras. Once you get me linked into the vault, I will be able to open it. As for the guards, well a big strong man like yourself should be able to fight them off, yes?”

I sigh and shake my head. “Oh yes, certainly. And the getaway?”

“I’ll have the car running.”

“I still don’t understand how you’re going to do that, we acquired the van, but…”

“I said, I’ll have the car running.”

She has a very annoyed expression upon her face, so I shut it. Even though the terms of our little “relationship” were built upon the shaky foundations of a damn bank heist, I felt somehow that I could trust her. Maybe there’s something wrong with me then, because it’s not like I even know her name, yet I still feel that way.

“Damnit, maybe that vaccine isn’t working as well as it should…” I mumble.

“What was that?” She says, not even looking at me.

“I said, I’m looking forward to tonight.”

She turns around and nods, “I as well.”

——————————————————————————————

It was about 12am when we made our move.

Set up in the van, my companion had hacked into the network of the little branch bank of a large banking firm, easily slipping in like some kind of Wurm into… well that’s not fair, Wurms just bust into whatever they want. Same principle though, although again, how she does it, I have no idea. Where did she even learn how to use a computer? Monsterization is scary prospect indeed.

I wait outside until I get the all-clear from my ear-piece before I unlock the backdoor, holding my breath as I listen for any alarms. Nothing happens, so I quickly slip inside the building.

From casing the place and some other digging, we found that there were normally two guards on duty who would have to be dealt with, so I quickly crouch down and search for my first target.

“Don’t cause too much of a ruckus.” I hear in my ear.

I roll my eyes but don’t reply. She knows damn well that I won’t cause a mess. Despite all her blustering, I made it quite apparent that I am a professional thief, and have been for many years. I’ve just never taken on a partner job, or a true vault robbery before. Sample principle as any other good burglary though, so it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

I reach a corner of the back offices and listen to the sound of a guard watching some video on his phone, laughing like an idiot. I roll my eyes at his utter lack of professionalism, but it makes my job easier, masking the sound of my approach as I crawl behind him and quickly place a hand over his mouth, a rag filled with chloroform pressed to his nose. Yes, it’s old, but it still works. I don’t really want to kill anyone if I could help it you see, he’s just an idiot, and like I said, murder doesn’t pay.

As soon as I make certain he’s out, I gag and tie him with zip-ties before hiding him under his desk. Making certain I wasn’t heard, I check the cameras he’s watching to see that the Matango had already placed in dummy footage. Excellent, even if there were other terminals to watch from, we’d be fine then.

Despite telling myself otherwise, I still feel a thrill from the adrenaline rush, but I manage to suppress it as I move forward into the bank, listening for the next guard. Since I was so intent on listening, I almost jump when I hear a hissing in my ear, “What that’s not supposed to…? Crap, there’s a third guard!”

I turn around and hear the sound of footsteps coming from in front and behind me at the same time. Shit, shit shit, this isn’t how that’s supposed to work! Guards had schedules damnit!

I look around furiously for a way out. There was no way I could take down  both guards before they sounded some kind of alarm, so I needed somewhere to hide, and fast. 

Looking to the side, I see a restroom, and I quickly dive forward and open it, rushing to hide inside a stall, my heart hammering. Really professional huh? Fuck me, God damnit.

“Dirk? Dirk, you’re not on the cameras, where are you?”

I grit my teeth, feeling shock from multiple sources. Did she just use my name? Well one, that’s not proper form when someone could hear, and two, she NEVER used my name. Needless to say, I was a little disoriented.

I don’t get the time to piece my mind back in order when the door to the bathroom opens behind me. I go stock still as I hear the heavy footfalls of a guard. He stops before a urinal and I hear him unzip his pants before sighing in relief as a stream of urine flows out.

Oh thank you merciful God, you son of a bitch. I take a deep breath and slowly push open the stall I’m in, thankfully the door making no sound. I crawl behind the man, who is still pissing, and I gently, oh so gently,  put another rag with the chloroform to his mouth. He struggles against me for a moment, flailing about and soaking the area with his still leaking urine, thankfully not on my damn shoes, before he soon slumps down into the urinal with a splashing sound. How lovely.

Before I can rest, the door to the restroom bursts open and the last guard shouts, pistol held in both hands, “Who the fuck are you?”

I drop down as two bullets fly overhead, and with a swift gesture, I grab the tazer, not the gun, off the guard in his own piss and quickly fire it toward my new assailant. The little pegs hit the guard and he flails back and forth as electricity courses through his body before he hits the ground, twitching. I make certain he’s down for the count then Itie and gag both of them  and clean myself up, preparing to head out to the vault.

Despite the windows looking outside, it was too dark for anyone to really give a shit  about what happened from the outside even if they looked in at this point, although with my dark garb I was probably just fine hiding anyway. I still kept low to the ground  until I hear that familiar voice in my voice again, 

“Oh Gods Dirk, you’re alright.”

“You sound sort of relieved.” I say back, a smugness in my voice.

“Don’t get full of yourself you little bastard, I still need you.” She shoots back, but I could tell she was genuinely worried.

“The vault is just behind the…”

“I know, I know.” I say before heading there, making certain there aren’t other guards hiding around. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Thankfully, there weren’t, and I quickly pop off a panel next to the vault’s ID scanner and insert a connection to my partner. After a few moments I hear, “Right, I’m in. One moment…”

There’s some furious typing and a muttered curse before an exclamation of joy. “You’re good to go, I’m getting the van ready.”

A series of whirring clicks seems to follow a “Welcome” on the digital screen of the vault ID scanner and the door slowly swings open. I roll my shoulder and enter cautiously looking around at all of the security boxes and various other items. Yes, cash could be present, but that wasn’t the goal. Besides they had ink packs hiding in there, which was terrible stuff now that they used Kraken ink, ugh.

I notice immediately where the statue is, hiding behind glass in a recessed area of the vault. I smile and walk toward it, staring at its beauty. Honestly, it was amazingly well crafted, even down to the tattoos and flower on growing on the Queen’s head. Well, I’d have plenty to admire her when she was on the way to being sold.

I reach forward when I hear in my ear, “Wait… what the hell…”

It was too late to stop my hand however, and suddenly alarms began to blare in the room, disorienting me. I take a step back and look around, confused.

“Wha…what the fuck?” I shout into my com. “You said it was clear!”

My Matango ally is silent for a moment before saying in a low voice, “There…were lasers.”

“Oh God damnit!” I shout, watching with horror as the vault door begins to close. I look at the statue, then the door, before groaning. No way to take both, so I immediately leap through the door, rolling to my feet as it closes shut behind me.

By now though, I knew the game was up. There was nothing for it, I had to get going before the Police arrived. With that in mind, I dash out toward the main door of the building and find it, of course, locked. I was not in the proper physical or mental state to unlock the fucking thing, so I beat at it over and over, my professionalism utterly lost until I howl with rage at the futility.

I look over at the where the backdoor was, and realize that if I left that way, there was no way I could regroup with my partner in time before the Police get here. Hell, chances were high that she’d already turned tail and left, getting as much distance as she could from the scene and leaving me out to dry.

Despite knowing this was the sensible thing for any criminal to do, the knowledge that I wouldn’t see her again was an odd feeling, as if I’d lost someone very important to me. I sigh and make to leave, but I feel more hollow than fearful. Ah, well, we were going to part anyway, and she was such a bitch… so it shouldn’t really hurt like this.

But it does.

I make it about ten feet before I hear in my ear, “Get away from the window!”

I can barely put together what she just said before the roaring of an engine sounds and I turn around to a bright light and see a van crash through the window and into the bank, turning around in a circle as I flinch away from the debris.

“Get in!” The Matango shouts from the window and I hesitate for only a moment before dashing to the other front door and tearing it open to jump into the van, not even closing the door before she starts driving out of the bank, presumably to our safe house.

As the sound of sirens begin to play behind us, I look in the mirror and, seeing no immediate pursuit, I slump into the seat, sighing.

“Fucking lasers? Really?” The Matango says angrily, slapping the wheel over and over in frustration.

I look over to see her driving somehow, and with a start, I realize she’s managed to hard wire a computer into the van to control the brake and gas, operating it with one hand and steering with the other.

“You alright, Dirk?” She asks, glancing at me.

I look at her and see the complex array of determination, anger, and relief in her face. I realize then that I too feel relief as well, not just because we managed to get away for now, but that she had actually come back for me. I can’t help but lean back, closing my eyes and sighing out my tension.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks partner.”

“Elizabeth, it’s Elizabeth.” She replies softly.

I smile and open my eyes to look at her. “Well Elizabeth, after that bold ass rescue I could kiss you.”

She stops at a traffic light before putting the van in park and in a fluid motion, reaches over to pull me  in and press her lips to mine. They feel spongy, but warm, soft,  and full of that pent-up lust swimming behind her eyes. She pushes all her pent up feelings onto my lips, even losing herself enough to open her large, wet tongue to mine, and I can’t help flow back into her embrace, the two of us locking together with the force of unspoken feelings that we clearly both had kept hidden for so many months.

And then, it was over. She pulls away, putting the van back into drive, and sliding into regular traffic, such as it was so late, easy as can be.

I touch my lips, feeling an exhilaration in my words as I say, “You know Elizabeth, you’re a strange, mushroom sprouting, foul mouthed bitch, but I think I love you.”

She smiles softly, still not looking at me, “I know you do.”

That was our first, admittedly unsuccessful, heist together, but it was not our last.

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