Written by castor :: [Friday, 08 November 2013 20:39] Last updated by :: [Friday, 08 November 2013 21:01]
(special thanks to Dru for proofreeding and editing. Based on an idea by Rook)
The next morning it was time for Daylight to go out to do good in the city again. Time to save kittens, and to help people safely cross the street. Keiko had put on her costume … when she realized something. Not what she was, but where it was going to end up … how she was going to end up.
Call it a celebration of nature all you want, but it would end up a gang bang. She had woken up with at, times, 10 cocks somewhere on her personage. Not pretty, or fun, or good for one’s self image.
Especially if you had … well, someone in your life. Someone like the man who last night had kissed her. Not a bad kiss either. It wasn't magical, or world altering, but it had awoken in Keiko a little bit of her inner princess.
But then she heard it, and shook her head. The city screamed just a tad and it was selfish to think like this.
She opened the window and all was light.
And when she woke up it was 8 cocks. Well, not quite as bad as she had thought.
She called Rictor. He ran a lab at a local university.
"Hey, I have got a day job now, but I was wondering if I could use a lab at night.”
"This is expensive" advised Rictor.
"When no-ones there."
"People are always there." said Rictor. "I mean, you know how expensive an electron microscope costs to operate."
"What if I convince some people you work for? Fill out a grant form?" Keiko pressed.
"That will take a while," Rictor warned. "I mean, I feel for you … What are you researching?"
"It’s stuff with unique genes. I’m going off some stuff I did for the government."
"What happened to you and CDC stuff?" Rictor asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I heard you just quit."
"It’s complicated. I ran into some stuff that, you know … ”
"Good luck with your grant application."
The phone hanged up.
Rictor was right. You see makeshift labs all the time in movies, in like a kitchen or something. It would be theoretically possible. Nothing she could do would work like that except on the most basic level. Besides, she wasn't really good at that kind of stuff. Makeshift science was a skill unto itself. She was used to sending out for hundreds of tests – most of the actual chemical stuff she left to technicians. She could do everything herself, of course … if she remembered from her college days, but frankly all she remembered was thst acid was sour and basic was bitter.
She needed maybe 50 grand to start with. She had little hope for success.
But she needed to cure herself of this.
She didn't go out during the day for the next week. Her hair managed to grow a little bit in that time and she managed to sleep some at night. Alberto (never Tony or Albert) would come over sometimes and do stuff for her, and with her. Never sexual. There hadn’t even been any more kissing. But they did stuff. She wanted to do stuff for him too, but a semi-disgraced biologist … what could she do?
She did more research into organizations that could help her, while remaining secret. There was a lot of money invested in science and she had, at one point – back in the old days – possessed a talent for finding it. Often it hid behind the agendas and ideas of others, and asked to flatter it and one had to do a little sucking up. She didn't mind doing that.
Meanwhile, she watched the news. Fires, robberies, the stuff that Daylight would normally deal with. Keiko wanted to ignore it, thinking she had no responsibility for it. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should go out anyway. Maybe even tell Alberto … see what he thought. He deserved that. But she was, perhaps, a coward.
That’s exactly what she was.
It took about a week before her mind hit upon an idea, a logical one at that, regarding her need for a laboratory.
"What do you mean my funding is cancelled?" Professor Blackstone demanded.
"We have found a source that is better able to handle this research," the voice informed him. "As we are cancelling your contract before completion, we don't want you to worry about your lack of results. We will, however, ask you to vacate your lab immediately as our new source requires the facilities."
"I'll get you for this," Blackstone promised. "If its the last thing …"
The phone clicked.
Keiko was in the office of Randall Milner, very proper … very old school, if there had been one. He stood a small but fit man of about 60, possessed of a leathery appearance.
"Sorry about that," he said. "We’re cancelling the old contract in this area and moving you in. We have a very well equipped laboratory already setup. Your research ideas are very intriguing to everyone with my organizations … concern."
Randall was a werewolf. That she knew. He worked with other werewolves. While there were a lot of fakers on the net, a lot of furries, actual lycanthropy was out there, as Keiko had discovered, if you knew where to look. And it turned out they were wealthy. At least she could trust him with her secrets. He had some of his own, after all.
"We set up a research lab a couple of years ago to investigate, well, to be honest … to investigate you. But who better to research Daylight then you.”
"I need it to be dark," said Keiko.
Randall chuckled. "We prefer the light … but that can certainly be arranged.”
"I'll figure out how to help you," Keiko assured him. "Help us all. I suppose, in a way, I’m just like you.”
Randall smiled, and nodded. They spoke about money (she could have what she needed), staffing, and a few other issues. She offered no timeline, but they demanded none. After a while she left … in a special limo they arranged for her.
Randall smiled. She was a hero, of course. A good person. Werewolves were not. They were monsters of the night, and hunted men for sport … rarely bothering to eat them. Murderers most foul. But she didn’t ask the most important question: Why?
There had been good werewolves. Those who, when the beast took over, fled to the wilderness to pursue deer and other such prey. They were good people at heart. The evil werewolves mostly killed them whenever they appeared.
Most werewolves were evil. Not truly because of the wolf. But because they were, in fact, bad people. Because they did whatever they wanted. Randall had used it, as well as his pack-mates, to become a very wealthy man. The wolf reflected their souls, and their souls were pitch black.
She assumed they wanted a cure.
They looked at her power … and wanted her.
Late at night Alberto would sleep. He knew she mainly stayed up. He would occasionally, dream of her. But these dreams weren't always flattering.
He would dream of her dying in bed. Most cancer patients die in some variation of sleep – it’s a disease of weakness. She died screaming. Screaming very loudly. He dreamed of Keiko reaching out for him, only in her delirium she was reaching for the other side of the bed, reaching towards nothing and then dying like that, her arm falling down. He dreamed of doctors trying to revive her, to give her another minute. And failing.
When he woke up he sighed, because these were bad dreams to have. He was used to the basic dream. He had it for the last nine months. But the face was different – the slanted eyes, pallor skin, but the same scream was the same.Tthe same horrible scream of utter pain, loss, and death.
It was not a good dream, if less for the scream the simply for the theme.
He was replacing his wife.
And in his darkest moments, he was replacing her with another sickly woman. Another person who needed help, who needed him.
What a martyr he was.
Daylight hadn't shown up in three weeks, and people were now worried.
Keiko ignored them. Well as best as she could. She was busy. By day she slept, but night she either spent time in the lab or with Alberto.
It had been many months since had been in a lab and she was amazed how quickly it all came back to her. She didn't have any assistants, but she got all the tests she wanted performed, stacking them up in a pil. In the morning they were completed.
They weren't good results, but they were obtained quickly.
The disease (right word) in her body was probably incurable. However, it may be treatable with drugs. She was producing strange chemicals in her blood at the sight of daylight … maybe she could dissipate them.
Then one day she got to close to a heat lamp.
And she woke up back at home. Naked.
This wasn't good. She felt something within her. An urge. An incredible urge, like one felt when one had taken the first bite out of a great dinner. Somehow, that was the hungriest you could get. The desire for more. The desire for ‘it’.
She wanted to be Daylight.
She wanted Alberto.
That night, she knocked on his door wearing a robe. As he opened it she pulled it off, showing him her body. She half expected revulsion, but hoped for tenderness. Her hope was rewarded. He pulled her in, and kissed her, kissed her all over, and brought her to bed.
They made love. And for the first time in over a year, Keiko knew what that really meant. She really knew what it was to be with to a man and feel him inside of her, to be with a man and feel complete.
That a man could 'complete her' was perhaps a silly notion, perhaps a little sexist … but …
She was complete.
She was whole
Keiko kissed Alberto’s neck as he filled her with his seed, and felt utter bliss.
She relaxed afterwards, snuggling into her man, being delighted by this elevator repairman.
But she still felt the hunger inside of her.