Perversions of the Flesh

Minnie had voiced her worry about Kat and her confidence in Ann, but as she got down on her stomach, Ann started to feel like that worry should have been reversed. She could crawl no problem. It wasn’t that. It was the environment. It was dark. She had a crystal to help, but it didn’t go far enough to see the other end of this tiny space she was wedging her way into. Minnie wouldn’t send her into something that’d dead-end, she knew, but that fear still boiled.

The bag scraped across the stone as she shoved it forward with the shield. Somehow the confined space was easier on her hearing. Maybe it was just more limited. She could just focus on her breathing and the sound of her body wedging its way through a small gap in a mountain. Super easy.

She was desperately trying to ignore Waheela’s mounting anxiety. The ancient wolf was not alright with their current situation. Wolves could live in caves, but not something like this. Not a foot-tall gap.

Ann clawed her way forward, hand over hand, until she got to her bag. When she got to it, she took a moment to check things. Her paws were still outside the crevice. The next push forward was easy. The bag slid easily, and the shield skittered on a couple of loose pebbles.

Pulling herself up, she was fully under the ledge. Ann’s heart clenched. They could still pull her out, but that was going to stop being the case in two more movements. Once that happened, it’d just be her, and if something went wrong… she really was trying not to think about that. Something about actually being in the situation made it so much harder not to.

Her next shove forward ran into a slight complication. A small spike of stone caught a strap on her bag and halted her movement. She had to carefully move the shield to the side and wriggle up to dislodge the caught piece. A careful inspection told her that the stone was small enough she could break it off.

“Hey, Minnie?” Ann’s voice was ridiculously loud in her own ears.

“Right here, Ann. What’s up?” Minnie was keeping her voice very calm. Very soothing. Ann appreciated it as her own nerves subsided a little.

“Got a small rock outcropping on the roof. Snagged my bag, but I can break it for you all. Would that be alright?”

“How big?”

“Two inches long, like two inches wide, a bit jagged, and maybe an inch thick?”

Minnie was quiet for a second. “You see any cracks around you right now? Anything at all that looks like the rock’s split?”

Ann did her best to twist around and see in all directions. She knew she was flexible, but now found she could turn her head further than ever before. It wasn’t quite owl levels, but it would definitely be creepy to see. “Don’t think so?”

“Is that a question or a statement. Be sure,” Minnie said.

“I don’t see any,” Ann confirmed.

“Alright, then go ahead and break it. Chip it from the thinnest point until you can get the rest off.”

Ann did as she was told. Her claws clad in Bultrite started tacking away at the rock. The lower edge was pretty brittle and came away easily. Like she’d been told, Ann took the time to flick the rubble to the side, clearing the path. Things slowed down when she got closer to the ceiling. It took force to scratch grooves into the stone, and she started taking it apart in sections. The entire process took her maybe ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. Still, the way was now clear.

“Clear. Moving up,” Ann called back.

It was a brutally slow process. She’d push the bag up, crawl forward, check for obstructions, then repeat. As she went, she had to be careful with her breathing. Too big a breath in a tighter spot meant she’d feel her back press up against the roof, and that’d set off warning bells in her brain. She took the time there to mark spots that were a bit roomier. Kat had a broad torso and would need the help.

On one particular pull, she felt something brush against her leg. Her fur immediately stood on end as she wrenched her body to the side, twisting in half to see what the fuck it was. Empty darkness met her gaze. She didn’t even hear anything except her panicked breath. Maybe she was just imagining things?

With nothing for it, she dug in and kept moving. Push, crawl, push, crawl, push, crawl.

Another touch, then a tap tap. Ann’s head snapped to the side. Something had definitely touched her, but there was nothing! Nothing at all!

“Minnie?” Ann called.

No response.

“Minnie, can you hear me?” Ann shouted, fear creeping into her voice. They should be able to hear her. “Bren? Kat? Someone?”

Nothing. Deafening silence.

She hadn’t gone that far, right? Minnie didn’t mention branches that she could find when she’d checked. Just a straight crawl, right?

A cold breath washed over Ann’s neck.

In her panic, she slammed her elbow painfully into the ceiling. Cursing, she twisted her neck and saw something! Wisps of white retreating back into the stone.

No. She was not going to say it. She was not going to let that be what was happening, and she was going to keep moving forward. Fuck all of this; time to go!

Ann worked hard. Her steady rhythm was replaced by a frenzied burst of activity. She crawled with the shield and pack. If something got caught, she got it unstuck as fast as she could and beat away whatever had stopped her progress.

All the while, she was starting to see more of the white streamers rising from the stone. They kept to the corners of her vision. Every time she turned to get a better look, the things would pull back into the stone.

A couple more shoves forward, and something actually grabbed her leg.

“Don’t go!”

The words were crystal clear, like they were whispered straight into Ann’s ear. She yelped and slapped at her head.

“Don’t go!” the voice repeated. A woman’s voice!

Ann tried to catch her, but she never could. Always just out of sight.

“I have to! It’s the way to what I need,” Ann whispered back. She had no idea what she was talking to. She knew ghosts existed, but this cave was undiscovered and abandoned. Why would a ghost be down here? From what Rosalyn had explained, they were usually spirits tied to a location and unable to rest. None of that made sense for this cave.

“Don’t go,” the voice repeated.

“Who are you? Why don’t you want me to go?”

“Pebble and grain. Do not go. Danger and death await.”

Ann lay there for a moment. If it wasn’t a ghost, it was something else. Whoever she was, she seemed sentient and aware, but limited in what she could say. Could she be the ghost of the mountain? God of the mountain?

Ann discarded the thought. Gods were much better at talking to her. Maybe this was something smaller. A pebble and grain… maybe they were just spirits of the little rocks? Too small to be considered Gods, but still able to project themselves a little? It’d explain why they were popping in and out of the floor and ceiling.

“We know the worm is this way, but it’s the way we’ve gotta go,” Ann insisted, tugging at the grip on her ankle.

“Don’t go!” the woman wailed. “Danger! Death! Ruin!”

Ann pulled her leg free of whatever had grabbed hold. “Sorry. If I can’t tell them that I’m stopped, I’ve gotta keep going.”

“No! Stop!”

Ann ignored the pleas and pushed forward. For every three pushes, she had to kick off the persistent spirit’s attempts at stopping her. The woman clearly didn’t want her to get hurt. Each attempt was more an annoyance than any real obstacle. That lent credence to Ann’s earlier theory of her, or they, if there were more than one, being a minor spirit.

Ann finally saw the expanse of stone above her come to an abrupt halt. She didn’t care what the fuck was waiting for her; she needed out. She pushed her bag forward as hard as she could, flung the shield after it, and scrambled to freedom. Gripping the ledge, she slid on her stomach, colliding with the far wall and twisting to greet whatever was waiting for her.

A face emerged from the dark cave wall. Ghastly, white, and emaciated. Her long hair floated as if it were underwater, completely ignoring the solid wall it was clipping through. Her cheeks were so gaunt, and her eyes so sunken, Ann couldn’t have guessed an age for the spirit. What she could see were the several burns that contrasted her ghostly flesh with a raw pink. “I warned you.”

“I know. I know you did. Can you please not do that to the rest of us?”

“They have to know.”

“I’ll tell them. I just don’t want them to get stuck. What is so horrible down here?”

The spirit stared at her impassively. She had no expression, just a mask of a human face. “Ancient history.”

“Any details?” Ann pressed.

“No.”

“Not even how ancient? Are we talking thousands or millions of years?”

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll warn them, but please do not scare them. Is that alright?”

“You have made an oath. I will be watching.”

The woman faded back into the wall.

Ghosts, and ancient shit? Under a mountain. Yeah, that sounded right. Ann was just hoping a Balrog didn’t show up at this point. They weren’t even that deep.

Taking the ghost at her word, Ann crawled back up to the crawlspace and listened. She could actually hear people talking faintly. It seemed like the spirit had been blocking out sound as well.

“Hey! I’m through! Had um… had a talk with something down here? I’ll tell you all once you’re through.”

“What did ye see?” Kat’s shout came back. Made sense. If Ann could barely hear them, Kat was probably the only one who could hear on their side.

“Some spirit or ghost giving me a warning! She said she’d back off until I told you all! I marked wider spots with scratches! Look out for them!”

“Alright?” Kat’s confirmation definitely didn’t sound confident. “Bren’s on ‘is way!”

Ann found a comfortable spot, set up the shield as a backrest, and waited. It took Bren about fifteen minutes, maybe a bit longer, to get through. If she hadn’t had to stop and clear obstacles and talk to a spooky spectre, Ann doubted she’d take that much time even with Kat’s shield making it all more awkward.

“Annita, she said she would back off, correct?” Bren’s voice echoed from the crevice.

“Yeah, why?”

There was a moment’s silence. “Oh, nothing, just saw a face is all. Utterly terrifying.”

“Cool. You hear that, Kat?”

“Aye. Expectin’ creepy feckin’ faces now!” Kat yelled back.

“Ladies, that hurts… ngh, hurts my ears!”

Ann grinned, knowing that pain all too well. She sat there until Bren’s bag poked through. It was pulled free, and Ann helped drag him the last few feet to safety. As she helped dust off his now very grey robes, she spotted the woman’s face over his shoulder before she disappeared again.

“Sorry, thought she’d actually leave you guys alone. She said she’d wait.” Ann handed Bren his bag.

Bren accepted it and pulled out his journal. “It is good that I came through now, then, as I am not afraid of spirits from the past. It is a spirit, correct, and not a Goddess?”

Ann shrugged and leant down and let Rosalyn know she was good to start crawling. “No clue. She was talking about something that happened a long time ago but wouldn’t tell me what a long time was, so your guess is as good as mine.”

“Ruins would be interesting. Untouched ruins.”

“Careful, Durin,” Ann muttered.

“Is that a historical figure from your time?”

Ann jumped. She’d whispered that. “Shit, keep forgetting you can hear things now. It’s a character from a book. A Dwarf, what you’d call Bultrong, who was king. I think this one was the fifth called Durin? Doesn’t matter. There were a few of them. Anyway, they dug super deep under a mountain looking for rare metals like gold. Eventually they dug so deep they woke something up that’d been sleeping down there. It was basically a giant fire and smoke demon who killed the king, and the entire mountain got overrun by orcs. Orcs are these big green,”

Bren held up a hand. “We know of Orcs. They are not native to this part of the world, but live in the island nations. They are a seafaring people for the most part.”

Ann sat up, jarred from her recollection. “Wait, really? What are they like? Are they still green or did they go the whole mottled browns and greys? Are they big and muscular or kinda scrawny?”

Bren laughed as he wrote. “You sound like Rosalyn. They have a mottled skin colour ranging all sorts of shades. Some look downright human, and their appearance is as varied. They have small horns just above their foreheads, and webbed hands. Most are built for swimming, but I know a few tribes that settled inland have adapted. Rosalyn would probably have a better description.”

“Huh. Our versions of orcs were all over the place. We had some that were gross, slimy evil monsters, some that were kinda berserker fighters with tusks, and then there were the fungus ones.”

“Fungus?”

“Some game my dad liked. He had a ton of little statues, and I got commissioned for a couple of pictures from the whole thing, but I never got into it. Apparently the orcs there were mushrooms. It sounded really dumb.”

“That is quite the tale.”

Conversation trailed off until they heard Rosalyn getting close. Together, they helped her out of the tunnel and dusted her off before calling for Lucia to start.

“Gosh, that wasn’t that bad at all! I’m smaller, though, so that definitely helps. Does the ghost lady have a name? She was staring at me the whole time, and I couldn’t actually get her to talk to me even though I was really trying. Kinda emaciated, and those burn scars? Wonder if there’s some lava or something down here.”

Bren gave Ann a damning look. “Balrog?”

“Please no,” Ann whispered.

“What’s a Balrog?”

Ann chuckled and started the whole conversation over.

Rosalyn, it turns out, did know a bit more about the landlocked orcs. They’d been a big group that’d sailed to one of the larger continents in the region, and while half of the expedition had established itself in the coastal regions, another group had set out for deeper lands. Due to a fertile ecosystem that was welcoming to their presence, the group thrived much the way the Thrundol did. They became hunters and warriors, well adapted to the lush jungles. As times changed, agriculture was implemented in various plains and valleys, allowing for more stable settlements inland. Once that happened, the population of land-based orcs exploded, and a tension between their coastal brothers started to grow.

Bren filled in that a long war had been fought between the two groups. The jungles burned as the two tribes, evenly matched, couldn’t dislodge the other. Their battles lasted a decade. Only external influences ended the feud. At the same time, the enraged beasts driven from their jungle homes began to hunt the land orcs, while the seas turned treacherous with a new apex predator moving in. Neither tribe would survive if the hostilities continued, so a truce was called. All orcs settled the coast as the jungles regrew at terrifying speeds. The predator in the waters attacked ships at random. Jungle monsters grew larger and more dangerous as they adapted to the unified orc forces. Now this tribe has carved out sections of the jungle and settled them despite the fierce, constant battle with the wildlife. Coastal settlements have worked and developed methods of more safely traversing the waters now known for the offspring of that predator from long ago.

Lucia poked her head out of the crack in the wall just when they were getting to the part about jungle monsters. “Need visit,” she said as she let them drag her free. “Sound fun.”

“You’ve got a weird sense of fun,” Ann said. She grabbed the bag and pulled out several parts of Kat’s armour. “Sounds like a sweaty hell.”

“Yeah, I don’t mix with heat well,” Rosalyn nodded sagely. “I like a cosy fire on a cold day, but all the time? Nah, I’ll skip that.”

“Kat, you’re good to go!” Ann yelled back.

“Eh… alright?”

Ann glanced over at Lucia. “She doing ok?”

“Nervous. Don’t think she likes.”

“Shit.” Ann sat down in front of the crack. “Hey babe. I’m gonna be right here. Let’s talk while you crawl, alright? Anything you want to talk about. Also ignore the ghost, she’s just a perv.”

There were some scootching sounds from the crack before a very nervous-sounding Kat replied. “Alright, so, uh, what… um. Ye think ye could do the soul thing wit’ me, too?”

Ann caught a sigh, letting it out through her nose. This was going to be a long one.

Grace grumbled to herself as the crackling inside her helmet grew worse. The Bortislav Empire’s communications were terrible on a good day. Not like they’d spare anything decent for an Alfhindur slave. Fucking bastards. She picked her way through the densely forested hills, her form-fitting suit hugging her as she tried not to get it torn. That would earn her a whipping. Her ears ached, remembering the day the monstrous humans had cropped away her heritage, leaving her formerly long and pointed ears rounded stubs like theirs.

“Specialist Holson. Pick up the pace,” her supervisor barked through the static.

Specialist. Hah. She’d always hated that designation. Just because she had shown a talent for working with the unknown, they’d stuck her in this job and called her a specialist. Really, she was just a disposable piece of meat they sent out to interact with any crazy Warped they found. Disposable, but crucial. They’d never risk human lives like this. Still, she marched on, her pouch of tools bouncing off her hip as she peered through the glass-filled slit in the metal helmet.

Today’s mission was nothing different from the usual. Precognitors had sensed something out here and sent a team to investigate. It was usually some creature that would need to be put down after the team got any data from it and probably lost a few members. There were always deaths.

Grace was in her seventies. Still young for an Alfhindur, but an adult through and through. She was thin, gangly, and kept barely on the good side of malnourished. As such, her body had next to no fat. Where her breasts should be were small bumps, and her hips were a bony nightmare. Still, the lack of fat accentuated her strong cheekbones and sharp jawline, giving her a hawkish look. On the rare day she earned a reward, she’d easily found another of her kind that wanted her. That and her coppery hair was seen as exotic. She kept it as long as she was allowed, which was down to her shoulders. How she wished she could let it fall further.

Up ahead, the ground sloped downward. A hill, most likely, or maybe one of the craters left by the Return Wars. Ancient echoes of the violence when the Gods had returned to Earth. Didn’t matter much to her. She trudged forward, her sealed boots crunching leaves and sticks. Enchantments woven through her helmet let her breathe, thank the Gods. Sometimes she wondered if an especially cruel supervisor would turn that ability down or even off. Wouldn’t put it past them.

“Descending,” she said into the small jewel to the right of her lips. Honestly, this suit was probably worth more than she was. If she died, they’d probably just leave her body here and take the suit. Just more meat for the forest.

“Affirmative. Report any unknowns,” the voice crackled back.

She walked in silence. It didn’t do any good to chatter. It’d only get her punished later. Not that she wanted to talk to the supervisor. It’d be nice if she was linked to her compatriots. They were out here somewhere, doing exactly what she was, looking for something out of place and possibly dangerous. None of them knew what that might be, but it was their job.

A red glow broke through the treeline ahead. That was weird.

“Sighting. Red light through the trees. Approaching with caution.”

“Proceed.”

Slowly, she picked her way forward over roots and rocks, ducking low-hanging branches. Her heart pounded in her chest. If this was one of the twisted monstrosities that they called Warped, she’d be dead as soon as it noticed her. A branch scraped off her helmet. She froze. Fear boiled in her veins. Nothing moved, so she kept going.

“Update?” her supervisor demanded.

“Approaching edge of clearing,” Grace whispered.

She cleared the last line of trees and was met with a sight that took her breath away. It wasn’t a creature. At least, it sure didn’t look like one. It was a… tree? Kinda? It had roots that sank into the soft soil, a large central trunk of what looked like wood, but that’s where the similarities ended. Its branches were thick protrusions, bulbous, and waving slowly in the air. Oh yeah, and they were glowing a crimson hue that her eyes didn’t want to see. They watered whenever she made direct eye contact, making her turn away and blink.

“Contact,” Grace whispered. “Large being. Eight meters tall, though that changes constantly. About four meters wide at the trunk. Appears to be a tree of some sort, with waving arms that look nothing like branches. They’re round and smooth and glow a disorienting shade of red. I experience discomfort when looking directly at them.”

There was a pause. No response. Grace stayed where she was.

“Approach,” the voice commanded.

It was the one order she didn’t want to hear. The one she’d be forced to obey. Either that or die.

“Acknowledged,” she growled back.

Slowly, she stepped out from behind the tree and into that ruddy light. “No movement. No indication that it notices me,” Grace narrated. Her arms and legs were shaking. Fear did that to her. Made her unsteady. She wanted to run so badly. Still, she took another step, and another. “Approaching slowly. No movement. It may not possess sight.”

She walked right up to the thing. Still, it made no attempt to crush her, grab her, tear her limb from limb, impale her, eat her. The list was extensive. She’d seen her comrades go through all of them. Lucky her that she survived all of it.

That’s what her Path was called, ironically. Survivor. Slaves didn’t get much choice in their Paths, not in Bortislav. Grace’s had been a choice of necessity. If she wanted to live in this world, she needed to survive, and the Gods heard her wish. For twenty years, she had amassed experience and skills. She’d chosen several which had increased her resistance to toxins, let her hide when necessary, and become generally more hardy. None of those had given her ears back. Her parents had been so proud of them. Then, on the day she got her Path, they were cropped like every other Alfhindur.

“Collect samples if possible,” the voice came through.

“I would rather…”

“That is an order. Argument has earned you five lashes.”

Grace cursed in her head. Voicing her feelings would just lead to more severe punishments. Crouching down, she pulled the bag off her shoulder and rummaged through it. A set of glass vials and containers clinked as she pulled out her collection tools. Magitech devices that allowed her to pierce pretty much anything and take a tube of it. She could also cut portions out and siphon liquids. Crazy what the scientists had come up with.

Taking the one that pulled a core out of things, she knelt by the tree and placed a hand against the bark. Well, she’d thought it was bark. It was warm, even through her suit’s glove. That meant the thing had to be blazing hot, right? The suit had some level of environmental protection. Couldn’t have their “specialists” dying in extreme heat or cold before they got any useful data.

She’d been distracted by her own thoughts. At the last second, she noticed movement. A small worm? Something like that. No, it had legs. It launched itself at her. With no time to react, she watched as the thing passed through her suit like it wasn’t even there. That shouldn’t be possible! Falling back, she scrabbled at the place it had invaded. Nothing was there. She felt around her belly. Bones in their right place. Muscles under paper-thin skin. No sign of a creature. She turned around, and it wasn’t there behind her.

“Uh, reporting,” Grace stammered. “Contact made. A creature, possibly secondary to the main, touched me. Small, perhaps five centimetres. Worm-like but with many legs. It was red like the tree. I don’t think this thing is a tree. It’s warm. Maybe scalding. I can feel it through my suit. Secondary creature seems to have disappeared after making contact with me. It appeared to pass through my suit just below my ribs. No damage to the suit is visible. It’s like it just… melted?”

“Anything else?” the supervisor asked.

“No, sir,” Grace replied, still poking at her abdomen. Her fear was starting to give way to curiosity. What had that little creature been?

“Proceed with sample collection, then return to camp. We will need to study this creature.”

“Understood,” Grace said. She got to work, taking three cores, which were stored in vials, a cutting, and several scrapings of the bark, and a soil sample. All the while, she felt like something was wrong. The “tree” never reacted to anything she did. Warped would have gotten violent by now. Was this a passive one? Did those even exist? She only had her own experiences to inform her, and so far, they’d all been brutal.

Packing her things up, she stood. Just then, a warmth blossomed in her torso. Just below her ribs. Well, sort of. It was exactly where the creature had made contact with her. It felt… good? Fear filled her heart. That thing was still with her. She needed to get back. Maybe the humans could get it out of her?

She started walking. About twenty metres from the “tree”, the warmth spread. It was covering a coin-sized space before, but now it was about the size of her hand. She examined the area again and paled. The suit had changed. Where it once was tightly woven fabric, a seamless, slightly bumpy texture met her eyes. She prodded it. No reaction. Strange. She tried to move it around, but it stuck there.

“Suit seems to be, um, changing?” Grace reported.

“Describe,” the voice crackled back.

“Where the creature made contact. It’s not fabric anymore. It’s seamless, and a little bumpy. Still the normal black, though.”

“Return with haste,” the voice barked.

“Understood,” Grace said, not bothering to hide the fear in her voice. They never told her to get back quickly. Something had to be really wrong.

She walked as fast as she could, but her muscles just weren’t cut out for running. She tired easily. Only enough food to keep her functioning, but not healthy by any means. All the while, that warmth in her abdomen spread. At first, it crept to the sides, wrapping around her torso like the hugs her mother used to give her. By the time she got to the top of the hill, it had completed that part and was now spreading outwards. It crept down her stomach and up towards her chest.

Panic rose in her. Her breathing sped up. What had they called it? Hyperventilating? What did it matter? Sparing a glance down, Grace’s fears were confirmed. The odd texture was spreading with the warmth. It had just passed her belly button and was still going south. The upper reaches were about to hit her breasts.

Cursing, she pushed her muscles harder. She needed to get back. Now!

A shock of pleasure overwhelmed her body. Her vision went white. Her hearing stopped working. Slowly, she felt something between her legs. That warmth. Gods, did it feel incredible there. It was all she could do not to moan loudly into the helmet. It was like her insides were being tickled. Something was directly attacking whatever made her feel good down there.

“Specialist!” the supervisor barked. “Report! Tracking shows your movements have stopped. Delays will not be tolerated!”

“Can’t… walk…” Grace groaned through clenched teeth. “Feels… too good.”

“What feels good? Report!”

“The thing!” Grace cried, and suddenly, the overwhelming pleasure went away. She still felt something. That warmth was enveloping her lower abdomen and hips entirely. It was just not driving her insane anymore. Panting, she continued her report. “Suit’s changes reached my, um, between my legs. Immobilising pleasure hit me.”

“Can you continue?”

“Maybe. It’s faded for now.”

“Then do so.”

No sympathy. Figures.

Grace rose on shaky legs. Shakier legs, that is. One step at a time, she told herself. What in the Hells was happening to her? She felt the creature still working away at her suit. Right now, it had stopped progressing up her chest, just barely covering her breasts, and was more focused on her legs. That slick, yet slightly bumpy substance that had replaced her suit reached down over her thighs. It felt so damn good, too. Her body was burning from exertion, but whatever this was had relieved the pain in anything it was touching. Maybe the heat was helping? She had no way of knowing.

Trees began to thin around her. She was getting close to camp. Another ten minutes or so and she’d be in sight.

The creature had other ideas. It surged downwards, capturing her legs entirely. Grace fell face-first into the dirt and leaves. Pain sparked in her nose as it cracked against the front of the helmet.

“Gods damnit!” she cried, rolling herself over.

“Problem?” the voice requested.

“Yeah. The damn thing got to my legs. I can’t move them,” Grace reported. “Sir, give me a couple minutes to see if I can move again.”

“Request approved. You have five minutes.”

Five minutes. Hah. Well, at least that was something. Grace lay there. She didn’t want to move if she didn’t have to. Her body needed to recover.

The downside to that was that it gave the creature more time to do its thing. It was starting something new. While it slowly resumed spreading up her chest, her belly started feeling… strange. Like something was touching it. The feeling spread just about as quickly as the thing itself had. As it did, the feeling stopped in waves, leaving her feeling… nothing? Like the suit wasn’t there anymore. Then a new sensation hit her.

Grace sat up with a jolt.

Wind!

She’d felt the wind across her stomach!

Prodding again at the area, she confirmed it. Something had changed. She could feel the suit now. Well, not the suit, but what was outside the suit?

Panic.

This was what it was like to be a Warped, right? Changes to her body. Later would come her mind. With how fast this thing was progressing, when did she start losing herself? Becoming less and less until she was a monster bent on killing everything around her?

Grace tried to push herself away. It wouldn’t work. She was running from her own body. Did her mind care? Fuck no, it didn’t. She needed to escape!

Desperate, she grabbed a piece of the substance and tried to pull it away. Pain spread in her stomach as she yanked at it. Pain as if she were doing this to her own body. Her own skin. The realisation hit her. That’s what it was doing. It wasn’t just changing the suit. It was making the suit become her skin!

She kicked at the grass, resuming her backward scramble. Wait. Her legs were working again! Looking down, she noticed something else. They’d changed as well. Fuller. Stronger looking. How was that possible? She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t had time to work out. Just slavery. Not even her Path allowed her that much. Yet here she was, looking at shiny black supple legs extending from hips that looked alien to her. Even those had filled out. She poked gingerly at them and found padding there. She’d never had that. Always skin and bones.

Host, a voice whispered in her mind.

Grace screamed.

Quiet. Safe. Helping.

The fuck it was. It was changing her. Warping her! How long would it be until she was just another monster?

No fear. Only pleasure.

A tide of sensations wracked her body. Her toes felt every bump of the leaves under them, and her legs could sense the sticks underneath them. Last of all, she realised how soaking wet she was between her legs.

Good. Helping, the thing said again. Accept?

Grace sat there, confused. Had it just asked her for permission? That wasn’t normal.

Accept? It repeated.

“What happens if I do?” she asked, ignoring questions from the supervisors barking in her ears.

Help. Freedom. Pleasure. Propagation.

“So you want more? What happens to me?”

Stay. Still you. Better. Smarter. Stronger.

Grace had to reckon with that for a minute. This sounded too good to be true.

Need acceptance. Can’t complete.

Grace shook. It could sense her thoughts. Should she do this? The thing had spread to her arms now, covering her hands in the slippery substance that was becoming her skin. It reached up to her helmet but stopped at the seal.

Faintly, she heard footsteps getting closer, muffled by the helmet. Someone was coming for her.

Looking down, she saw strips of glowing red spreading across her torso. Her chest was now entirely of the black substance, exposing her glowing red nipples to the air. Looking further down, she found her sex to be much the same. Black, but glowing red inside. She held a hand up. Her fingertips were the same luminescent crimson.

She doubted there was any going back from this point. Do it, she thought.

An overwhelming sensation of melting hit her. The helmet got smaller, shrinking. Grace screamed in instinctual panic as the metal closed in. Her vision went dark for a brief moment, but it quickly cleared. Reaching up, touching herself, she felt her face. It was still her face. Thank the gods. She didn’t have a mirror, but she knew that her skin was now the same black as the rest of her suit. Continuing her exploration, her heart sank as she touched skin where her hair should be. Of course, the thing had taken that from her.

“Specialist!” a voice called to her, only several feet away. Gods, her hearing felt sharper. Even the call from that far away felt like he was shouting in her ear. She put her hands over her ears, then gasped. Long, slender, pointed ears! Her ears!

“Specialist, are you still with us?” the man asked, pointing a weapon at her.

“Yes. Specialist Grace Holson. Number six-two-one-seven. I am still me.”

“Explain your appearance,” the human man demanded.

“I’ve been reporting it to the supervisor. Whatever I found changed my suit. I think it’s my skin now.”

“Do you have any knowledge of it being contagious?” the man asked.

We are. Careful.

“No,” Grace lied. “I don’t think so. It’s just my skin.” It was so much deeper. Thoughts began to fill her head as the transformation continued. Intimately, she began to understand how the creature had connected to her nerves, her mind itself. It had woven itself into every part of her being. She felt her thought process quicken, her body changing to function more efficiently. Everything was changing.

Spread, the creature asked of her. More.

We need to be careful, Grace thought back. They’ll kill us if we seem threatening.

“Can you stand?” the man asked.

“I… I don’t think so,” Grace responded. This time it was the truth. She didn’t trust her new legs. Even if they looked stronger, she had no idea how they’d hold up.

The man groaned. “Five-three-eight, two-two-seven-nine, assist Specialist Holson back to camp.”

Two other slaves walked out from behind the man. Both were Thrundol, their ruddy green skin sickly and tusks shaved away. A man and a woman. Each seized her under an arm and hoisted her between them. Gods, they were tall. Well, Grace was pretty short, but still.

Spread now?

How long does it take for someone new? Grace asked.

Hours. Make them feel good like you.

Why was mine so quick?

First spawn. Speed needed. Take time with rest.

It made sense to Grace. Of course, the first host needed to be taken quickly. It was their vector. Their way of propagating. Once that person was taken, the rest could be spread slowly, subtly. They would all feel like she did. Incredible.

Grace shook that thought out of her head. That didn’t sound like her. Was she really being Warped by this thing? Well, obviously she was, but it had said she’d stay who she was. That needed a deeper examination. If that was something she actually wanted, then she had concerns about her own mental well-being. Though again, spreading this to her fellow slaves didn’t sound all that bad. They’d be stronger, smarter, so much more sensitive to the world around them. She couldn’t deny that the pleasure was a very enticing part as well.

Is there anything else needed?

Seal. Enclosed. Must use for new form.

Well, the normal slaves aren’t going to have that, but if we infect them, does it still start?

No. Needs seal. Dormant.

Then go ahead. Just these two for now.

Grace felt tiny tendrils, thinner than hair, extend from her arms where they made contact with her fellow slaves. The man and woman didn’t even notice as the tendrils pushed through their skin and disappeared. This thing was terrifyingly good at infiltrating.

“Specialist Holson,” her supervisor called. He was standing at the front of a big white tent. Quarantine. He was a stocky human, his grey hair cut in a tight crop, and his eyes full of malice. “You are to be sequestered and monitored. Testing will begin shortly. If you are cleared, five lashes will be administered as soon as possible for arguing with orders. Get inside.” He spoke every word with disgust, as if he were talking to a pile of shit. They all did. Every human like him.

“Fucking humans,” Grace said under her breath.

The two holding her up gave barely noticeable nods as they pulled her inside the white tent.