Deep Down Inside - Part 44 - Love Is Just Another Form of Death
Written by circes_cup :: [Wednesday, 16 April 2014 02:45] Last updated by :: [Wednesday, 16 April 2014 03:07]
PART 44 - Love is Just Another Form of Death
Warning: This is adult literature. If you’re not of a legal age to read this stuff, don’t.
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. No semblance between the characters described here and real individuals -- living or dead -- is implied or intended.
Narrative note: The end of this Part contains a reference to the scene in the Texas prison, which was Part 22.
"Why don't you explain it to them, Ethan. I can't bear." Vicky, her expression one of mental paralysis, stared blankly at her three girlfriends.
'She tells me module is pre-programmed to send an automatic signal to the aliens, about once a day. It's a simple signal-- just something notifying the aliens that the module is still functioning properly. In terms of the Venus trick, it could ruin everything for us. If the aliens receive the signal and pay attention to it, they'll realize Vicky's earlier message about the modules failing was a lie. They'll realize that the Earth wasn't destroyed after all."
"But if the signal goes out once a day, then the aliens should have received four or five of them by now," Kim responded. "It's been nearly a week since Venus."
"So far, we got lucky," Ethan replied. He jutted his chin toward the sun. "The Earth's orbit moved us behind the Sun almost immediately after the Venus stunt. They have no reason to expect a signal from her so long as the sun is blocking the transmission. But in another few days, we'll again have a clear line of sight."
"Is there any way to turn the signal off? Or take the module out?"
Vicky shook her head, slowly. The Sun's rays beat down mercilessly on the group.
"I need to think of something, but my mind is a blank."
“Four alien ships so far have visited Earth,” the TV yammered on. “The most recent one was a victory for humanity -- a ten-football-field behemoth that the supergirl Vicky destroyed in the Australian Outback. But the first three are another story. In the case of those, the supergirls became willing accomplices, decimating thousands on behalf of their alien masters."
"Why don't you turn that thing off?" Tamara asked Vicky. "It's not doing you any good."
But Vicky eyes seemed lost in the TV's flashing colors. "Is Jared listening to this?" Her voice was leaden. "He is going to hate me."
"Nonetheless, the world’s governments have determined that the supergirls, although they are the greatest menace the world has ever faced, also represent its only hope. And the fact that we now look to these destructive women as our only saviors just goes to show how desperate our situation is.”
The blank expression still on her face, Vicky continued, "Yup, Jared is going to hate me. But he should hate me anyway. Humankind is on it's way to the guillotine, and I am the blade."
"Vicky, anybody in there?" Louisa asked. The girls were taking turns on the watch of their nearly comatose friend.
Vicky cast a blank stare at the flapping canvas of the cabana. The girls had taken here here to get her out of the Phoenix sun. Its light had somehow become oppressive to her, a distant voice that she did not want to hear.
“Your darkest hour,” Vicky whispered. “What was it?”
“The time they had Chad hostage in Mexico,” Louisa replied.
“The billiards game. The bomb around his throat,” Vicky enjoined.
“What turned the corner for you? How did you deal with it?”
Louisa thought for a moment, before laughing. “I wore a short skirt.”
The mood broke for a moment, and Vicky, too, could not resist smiling.
“When I first walked into that room, Vicky, the bad guys definitely had the upper hand. But Chad shouted something to me -- something about how I was superior to them, that I could handle them.”
“Well, you ARE super.”
“Sure, but I eventually realized that 'super' wasn’t the point. He wasn’t talking about physical superiority. He was talking about determination. I would have given anything to save Chad.”
“That’s when I showed them my derriere. As much as I wanted to give myself only to Chad in that moment, as disgusting as I found these guys, I forced myself to lean over the pool table and give them good, long look, at my ass. And that’s when everything changed. They were watching the show, and it was MY show. I had sacrisiced just a little bit of my dignity to get them distracted, to get them playing by my rules. That was the beginning of their undoing.”
“So you’re saying that I find a way to distract the aliens?”
“No, I’m saying that you are willing to give up more to win this fight than they are. That’s your advantage.”
And Vicky considered this.
Several hours later, Kim replaced Louisa on watch. Their beautiful auburn-haired ward continued to stare into the gently undulating canvas walls.
"I heard you went to the hospital recently," Vicky said, her voice vacant.
Kim's closed her eyes and took in the fragrance of the desert air. "It was the most moving thing I have ever experienced."
Vicky peeled her eyes off the the canvas and glued them to Kim.
"I hear that he was terminally ill -- that he asked you to make love to him even though he knew his heart might not be able to handle it."
Kim nodded, and some glossiness came to the corner of her eye. "He idolized me. Physically, he wasn't healthy enough for sex anymore. His heart-- it literally burst."
Vicky was silent for a moment. "I wish I had that kind of clarity right now."
"At first I felt sorry for him. Even after he was inside of me, I said that I was sorry that his life had to end."
"What did he say back?"
"The strangest thing. He said, ‘No, Kim, I'm the luckiest guy in the world. All of us have to die someday. The lucky ones get to choose how.’"
And Vicky considered this.
Hours later, Tamara had relieved Kim on watch.
The sun beat down on them, trying to claw its way through the rough weave of the canvas. Tamara noticed that Vicky was shielding her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Tamara asked.
Vicky answered the question with a glance, weary and pleading.
"Have you come up with a plan yet?" Tamara asked.
"No. I feel like both Kim and Louisa told me something important today. But I can't put it all together. Thoughts are stirring in my head. But their movements are unguided, as if they are all wandering through a thickness, a fog. I feel awful."
The stillness of the midday heat did little to answer them.
"You always have been at my side, Tammy," Vicky said, using the girl's older, more playful name. "Tell me now, how is there any hope?"
Tammy smiled. "The only thing I can tell is you is the speech I've been giving ever since I fought the battle at Kerch. Look to the people. They will guide you to a greater strength. And through your symbiosis with them, you will become the magnificent woman you always hoped you would be."
"That's pretty fucking cryptic," Vicky replied. "We are perhaps a day away from the aliens discovering our little Venus ruse. And once that happens, it won't be long before their mining craft tear this planet limb-to-limb."
"Think about the fight you broke up at the football stadium, and more importantly, the drug trade you quashed. Think about the number of addicts that recovered your lives with your help. It wasn't your muscles that saved the day, it was your leadership. When you've relied upon the people for answers, they've always risen to the challenge. Open yourself up to them, and in them, you will find new power."
Vicky sighed. "There are four billion people on the Earth. Who exactly has the answers I need?"
"There may be four billion, but there is one who is better at guiding you than all the others."
"Jared?" Vicky glared at Tamara. "I sank a fucking Navy, Tamara. Do you think Jared approves of that? Do you think he ever wants to see me again, for the rest of his life?"
"If you don't come up with a plan, the rest of his life -- and everybody else's -- will be about six months long. You NEED to find answers. Jared may hate your guts, but the man knows you like the back of his hand. He can guide you, even if he hates you."
The sun beat insistently against them.
Vicky nodded. It was a resolute, lonely gesture-- the kind of nod the condemned might give when placed before a firing squad and asked if they were ready.
Tamara's superhuman eyes traced the flight of her auburn-haired friend as she took to the skies. She was soon among the clouds.
Today's clouds were wispy -- light and carefree. The little dark speck, by contrast, seemed incredibly sad, and alone.
The knock of her knuckles on the door was full of hesitation. She heard the soft shuffle of footsteps that would have evaded mortal years.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
He didn't answer, but held the door wide. She didn't know how to read that. It felt like the opening move of a chess game: come forward first, you fool. All the better for me to checkmate you.
She sat on the cheap, assemble-it-yourself sofa. Its poorly tightened bolts creaked slightly at her weight. Her own sofa back at the mansion was a three-thousand-dollar behemoth of solid oak. She would have given a hundred of them to make her current discomfort disappear.
Discomfort seemed to plague Jared, as well.
"You're scared of me, aren't you?"
He paused, and then admitted a nod. "I saw the footage, what footage they could recover off the seafloor. A whole navy -- and you tore them to pieces like they were toys in a bathtub. And then an army after that. And, oh, a 10.5 magnitude earthquake in Australia. So, yea, it's a little bit weird having you on my couch."
"I killed them all, Jared-- thousands. And the scary thing is, I barely remember it. The aliens, they have a grip on my mind that is hard to explain. When they are here, I serve them with glee. I can't do their bidding fast enough. A stronger person could resist, I'm sure. If you had this module in your gut, the earth would probably be safe. But me, I'm so weak..."
"Vicky...." Jared said moving from the cheap chair to the cheap couch. "I'm shocked that you would--"
"My mind is so clouded, Jared," she said, burying her forehead in her hands. I can't see a path to fix this. I feel like I know the answer, but it's shrouded in fog."
"Maybe stay a while?" He seemed anxious. "Maybe we try to find the answer together?"
She replied with a wan smile. "You must hate me. You said as much right before the big concert in Tempe."
"No, no," he replied. "I never hated you. On the contrary..."
Her bewilderment grew. "But all the stuff that you said... what a disappointment I had turned out to be..."
"Disappointing only because you had stopped being yourself. You had become totally self-centered, with no interest in helping the world. That wasn't you -- not the true you. I couldn't stand to see that enormous cloud of bullshit smothering..." His voice trailed off.
He seemed to struggle for the words.
"The woman I love."
Vicky felt like a child swimming in the ocean, being tossed about by the violent surf. The world felt upside now. This made no sense.
"You just think I'm sexy," she replied brusquely.
"No, I'm serious,” he pleaded. “I knew you would think it's a joke. That's why I never said anything before. I knew a girl of your hotness would never be interested in a guy like me."
"See?" she retorted. "You said it yourself. This is all about my 'hotness'. Well, if hotness is all that matters, I can have guys hotter than you, by the dozen!"
Jared was visibly wounded by the rejection, but he had a dogged look in his eyes.
Her voice stabbed once more at the wound. "I'm amazed at you. You're attracted to me and you don't even know why. There's a difference, Jared, between sexy and lovable."
"Lovable-- that's a strange way to put it. What do you mean by that?"
"Uuugh," she groaned. "Do I really have to explain it? I'm not worthy, you idiot. Let me give you just one tiny example. I lead the killing of eleven guys in a basketball gym.”
“That changes nothing.”
“I killed Cuthbertson and two of his friends-- for fun.”
“So, he was an asshole.”
“I tried to make up for these things, Jared, I really did. I saved a train from falling into a deep gorge -- with hundreds on board. I took on the Mexican drug gangs, saved many thousands from drug addiction, and saved a hundred-thousand-person city from a flood.”
“That stuff changes nothing too.”
Jared response made no sense to Vicky, but by now she was hysterical. “But Jared, it was all futile! I tore an encampment in Central Asia to pieces!”
“That changes nothing.”
“I turned a navy into flotsam and bodies.”
“Still, it changes nothing.”
“I tore apart and army too! How can you forgive all that?!,” she screamed. “You think that you love me, Jared, but I'm a monster. You should have stuck to admiring the tits. At least then I would have believed you."
“Vicky...” He put a hand on her cheek.
It was all she could do not to shatter it. “How can I be worthy of forgiveness when the balance of my bad deeds outweighs the good? Look,” she continued, fishing a piece of paper out of her pocket, “I’ve calculated the number of lives I’ve saved and the number of lives I destroyed. The column on the left is so much less than the column on the---”
But Jared tore the paper out of her hands, almost viciously. With a snarl on his face shredded it into confetti. In the back of Vicky’s mind, she wondered what courage it must take for a man, so frail, to confront her in this way. Whatever he was doing to the paper, he knew she could do that to him just as easily.
“I need to make it up somehow, Jared. Fix the balance. Then I would be worthy... Worthy of something more than sex.”
“You're worthy right now. You always have been. You always will be. You were worthy the day you first cast me that bashful smile. You were worthy day you had a temper tantrum and tore your dorm room apart. You were worthy from the moment I met you, because I love you, Vicky. And love, at least the kind that I’m feeling, knows no accounting, and it has no sense of justice. It just is. I love you and want you and, as long as you're being true to yourself, I will always forgive you, for everything.”
Vicky was sobbing by now. “I need to be stronger, to do more to fight the aliens.”
“You’ve done everything you can.”
“Don’t you understand? You can't possibly forgive me. The aliens will make me annihilate your home!”
“I forgive you.”
“They will have me kill you, too!”
“I forgive you.”
“For killing you? Why? You should be wishing that I had never been born.”
Outside, grackles sang urgently, CRAW-CRAW, as the sun’s light began to recede.
Jared thought for a moment, and then let the confetti of the paper slip between his fingers. “Once I fell in love with you, I couldn’t imagine life without you. My old world ended, and I didn’t want it back. If I can’t have a new life with you, then I don’t want life at all. Love, I suppose, is just another form of death.”
“That’s really how you feel about me?”
With blistering speed, her arms were around him. She felt the elation of her breasts pressing gently against his ribcage. His bones were so fragile to her, but inside, that heart-- so damn strong. She clung to him for dear life as the fog in her mind cleared.
“I can finally see clearly now,” she whispered into his ears. “I had been holding back from the answers-- trying to find more good to balance the bad, trying to be worthy. But you loved me anyway, no matter how unworthy I was. But now I can see the path.”
Jared inhaled expectantly. “What path?”
But she didn’t answer. Instead her eyes explored the depths of his. “Why did you never tell me you loved me, you asshole?”
“Because I never thought that a guy like me--”
But he never got to finish the sentence. Vicky's arms enveloped him with such immeasurable, tender strength that even a freight train couldn't have dislodged her. And she interrupted his words with a desperate, intoxicating kiss.
"Fuck me, Jared," she begged, "like there's no tomorrow."
Vicky's fingers seemed to hesitate on the shoulder straps of her camisole. Bashfulness -- it was the first time in ages he had seen this emotion on her face. On a good day, Vicky taking a walk down the street would stop traffic. On a bad day, it caused an accident. She was the most stunning woman on earth, and she knew it -- until now. Why the sudden bashfulness?
Vicky hoisted the camisole above her head, her mountainous breasts springing free.
Jared heard an involuntary gasp from his lips, as if he was suddenly short of breath.
"Do you like them?" she asked, hefting her breasts in her hands. Their generous volume spilled around either end of her hands, between her fingers.
He nodded speechlessly.
"Good." Her voice had something strange in it.
"How could I not like them?" he asked. "They're incredible. But your voice -- it's strange. You sound relieved, as if you just passed a test."
Vicky did not reply as she smoothed her hands down over the most perfect set of abs a fitness magazine could ever hope to feature. Jared felt his heart, already straining, thump harder.
"I have a confession," she said.
Her crystalline hazel eyes bore into him with their beauty.
"Your porn collection," she said. "I found it shortly before I transformed."
Jared squirmed uncomfortably.
"The women in there were all so beautiful," she continued. "And I knew that you wanted them. So, I modeled myself on those women. I tried to incorporate the best attributes of each of them. I wanted to be the perfect amalgamation of them-- for you."
She slipped the miniskirt down over her luxurious hips and thighs. Her legs wound around each other like coiled serpents.
Jared's mind was exploding with confusion and desire.
"The only poetic license I took was with the tits. All the ones in the pictures seemed a little bit droopy, or fake. So although I made them huge, I also firmed them up a lot, but kept them natural as well."
She brought his hands up to feel her breasts. Soft and yet incredibly solid, they heaved with her every breath.
"Do you like?" she asked.
He nodded desperately.
"Good," she smiled, again relieved. "Do you see anything you want to change? I'm the only supergirl with control over the modules. Blond, brunette, bigger, smaller -- I can be anything you want."
His voice was dead serious. "You already are everything I want."
It was about then that Jared felt the clothes being ripped off of him. Her hands moved in a blur, but with a practiced precision. The belt and waistline of his jeans were pulled apart as if they were made of no more than a piece of straw.
She pushed him back into the softness of the couch and slinked on top of him. His manhood strained upward to meet her. He wasn't that large down there, and the recognition of this cast a pall of mood-deadening bashfulness over him.
"I'm not the biggest stud in the world," he admitted. "Far from it. You're probably used to guys that are... bigger, literally."
"You're perfect, for me. And I'm going to prove it."
He felt the warm slipperiness of her sex slide down over his manhood. That, in itself, felt incredible. But then something else happened down there -- an embrace of sorts, a tightening. It sent his brain into fits of pleasure.
"I'm molding my pussy to fit you exactly," she explained. "We're going to fit together like a lock and key. No man alive has ever experienced this."
He gave his cock an experimental thrust into her. Moans of pleasure had filled the room before he realized that they were coming from him.
Gazing down at him, her eyes sparkled as she bit her lip. "Now, I'm moving my G-spot, so that it's directly over the tip of your cock." She stared at the ceiling momentarily. "There we are. Now you're going to see what stud you are -- what your body is capable of doing to me."
He thrust, tentatively, into her. She whimpered uncontrollably, passion of the moment combining with the accumulated release of all her self-doubt, her self-hatred. Tears streamed down her face as she felt her brokenness disappearing, being replaced by a person who had been made whole.
He thrust again, this time more forcefully. She cupped her palms over his ears, as her screams of ecstasy blew out every window in the neighborhood, and set off car alarms for a two blocks in every direction.
The Phoenix sun beat through the window, Jared noted, with a strange sense of urgency. Vicky had been cowering from the sun for days now, and now he, too, was feeling a strange emotion about it. What was it telling him? Was it calling to him? To her?
Turning, he saw that Vicky was awake.
She snuggled into him, and brushed the errant curls of his hair away from his eyes. "Tamara was right after all," she said. "She told me to look to the people -- those that I seek to protect -- for the answers. Over the recent days, I had been looking for the answer was out there," she waved skyward, "some sort of technology to defeat the aliens. But I was looking in the wrong place. The path was in here -- deep down inside of me."
“A path-- you said something about that last night, too. What do you mean by that?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow.
“I know how to save humanity, Jared. I just couldn't admit it to myself before. Louisa told me that beating our opponent was simply a matter of who was willing to sacrifice more, and still I denied my fate. Kim told me that only the lucky ones get to choose how to leave this Earth, and still I denied my fate. I wasn't ready to let go yet-- not without correcting the balance of my deeds, not without making myself worthy of you. But you loved me anyway, no matter how much stuff I’ve fucked up in life. And it was your love that set me free.”
“Free to do what?” he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.
“There is a way Jared, to eliminate the modules. And if we eliminate them, we win.”
“How will you eliminate the modules without eliminating yourself?”
“It’s worth it,” she smiled. “The Earth will survive, including you.”
He tried to cling to her, but she was already peeling his arms off of her with gentle, juggernaut strength.
“You can't go,” he said desperately.
“You’re going to be OK,” she replied, turning happily toward the insistent, Phoenix sun. “And that matters to me more than my own survival. After all, love is just another form of death.”
The ex-convict was startled by the ringing of the phone. But he was easily startled these days. That’s what happens to your mind, after you've been strapped into an electric chair.
It had been many months since he had felt the leather straps tighten over his wrists, since they had asked him for his final words. But as fate would have it, only moments before they threw the switch, the supergirls had shown up.
The phone continued to ring. The caller ID on the was a 602 number: Phoenix. He picked it up.
“Do you remember when I hauled you out of that chair?” a winsome female voice asked. It sent pleasant chills down his spine.
“Yes,” he replied. “I told you that I couldn’t thank you enough. And you said that you might need a favor from me someday.”
“I’m calling to collect it.”
“I want you to tell me how you prepared yourself, the night before you were scheduled to die.”
Categories SWM Library | Deep Down Inside
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