The Third World War, if you could call it a war, lasted only two hours. In that time, the earth was laid waste, and all the money in the world saved no one. Caught unaware, hundreds of millions died in those fleeting moments. Over the following year, billions perished in the nuclear winter that followed.
A hundred years passed, and man gathered together in tribes. Fighting to survive, life adapted. Mutation of animals and humans was a constant. Some terrifying creatures evolved, giant snakes slivered over the landscape devouring men. Other creatures, once bear, wolf, lion, all became something else. A breed of human evolved, you could no longer call them human. Still, these creatures roamed the earth, killing, doing as the pleased with a mind so warped no “normal” being comprehended how they could be so cruel.
Larger, stronger, the beast were hunters. Solitary creatures, they shunned even their own kind. Male and female, they possessed a genetic memory of all that happened. They shared their own existence in a psychic link. Finding each other when the need arose to procreate. The man would stay with the woman until a few months after birth. The woman cared for the child until about its seventh or eighth year, then abandoned them to fend for themselves.
Norms called them, the Hellkite ... the Hellkite called the normals Prey. The centuries passed as predator consumed prey.
Iberian looked over the valley. He could see the farms, lush green crops growing. The cattle feeding in fields of green grasses. The defenders with their guns guarding the possessions of Prey. Children playing near the farmhouses and in the village. A young woman wandered near the stream which flowed into the lazy river. Young and tender, she frolicked in along the bank, dashing into the water, splashing at her male friend that accompanied her. He would beacon her to come out of the water.
Iberian couldn’t help but wonder, were they lovers? He wanted her to fuck, he wanted the man for food. His kind had avoided this valley for some time, the Prey had developed weapons that hurt, or killed his kind. Still, he wanted to revenge Barbella, she had borne him five offspring. These bastard Prey had murdered her. This isolated valley had developed guns and killed his mate ... for that they would die, every last one of the males. The women would be abandoned, their bellies swelled with his half-breed offspring. By the time the progeny turned eight, they would begin to feed on their mothers, then wander the earth seeking more Prey.
Iberian remembered the last copulation with Barbella, their wild, lunar cycle of pure overindulgence. A full 27 days of hunting, feeding, fucking and playing together. When they mated, they would forgo the act of sleep. They dined on the flesh of the Prey, from child to old they gorged themselves. After the meals, they would congress for hours upon hours, until they cuddled as the sun rose and the cycle began once more.
He thought of the offspring, reaching out he found him, feeding on some fresh kill. They mingled their thoughts for a moment. Iberian broke the connection, far too painful knowing the boy’s mother’s bones were bleached white next to him.
The pair moved closer, Iberian positioned himself near the stream, ready to strike. Her beauty struck him, norms were so smooth and soft. Even the boy was cute, and his flesh would be sweet. A side arm he would have to be careful. Iberian wondered how they had made the vile things, that knowledge had been lost.
Erin rose early, long before the sun broke over the mountain to the east. Excitement filled her, Jason promised her a romantic picnic. The sixteen-year-old had plotted for months, laying her trap with great care. Like the giant black spider, she wanted to capture her quarry. Jason would be a good catch, a good provider. Unbeknown to her Jason had his own plans.
Jason’s father was Chief Protector ... a respected official and wealthy. The would live in town and be waited on hand and foot by servants. After all, Jason’s dad had killed the last Hellkite that invaded their valley. A female beast that slaughtered a dozen before Hector put her down, the hunter left her where she fell. A warning to the others—stay away or will kill you. In tribute to Hector, every adult gave him a thousand credits. Hector’s wealthy swelled by 30,000 credits he became the richest man in the valley.
“Father,” Erin said. “Jason and I have planned a picnic today.”
“Is this the day?” he asked her.
“I am hopeful, he is so handsome with his shaggy blonde hair, brown penetrating eyes, and muscular body. Do you not agree he would be a perfect benedict for me?” she asked her father. She watched him intently.
“He is an amiable fellow, my child, in that I am pleased. Don’t be too hopeful we are lowly, and he may just be playing for your affections. The wealthy don’t often stoop to marrying the poor. His intentions may be only for temporary pleasure,” Aaron said leaning to his daughter he put his hand over her hand, he squeezed. Aaron’s eyes appeared anguished, “I don’t want you hurt, withhold your full warmth until after the ceremony. Don’t believe unproven declarations of love.”
“Father, you’re so old-fashioned,” she said. Turning she began to cut up the fowl for the al fresco meal. Aaron stood moved to the door, he turned then noticed the empty seat across from his and pain flooded him in dark torrent. Thoughts of his wife and that beast bitch taking her overcame him. Only bones and organs remained when they found her lair. The bones of his wife were indistinguishable from the other eleven victims. He fell against the door and cried, Erin, rushed to her father.
“I promise to stay pure until I’m married father.”
“That’s not it, even after three years I can’t get past the loss of your mother.”
The small stream flowed out of the mountains to the southwest. It meandered through the south end of the gorge, flowing north toward the big river that flowed out between to big peaks on the far north end of the basin. Near Aaron Holder’s land, a small creek branched off and flowed into forest boarding craggy mountain east of his property.
Erin and Jason forded the stream and followed the rivulet to a pond buried deep in the trees. A small grassy field extended right to the rocky rise of a craggy cliff. Next the still waters of the pond the couple enjoyed their noon meal. The bird had been fried to perfection, and Jason enjoyed far more of it than his younger companion. He wanted the sweet meat between her legs, he wondered how tight it would be when he plunged his cock into her virginal pussy. Jason liked Erin, he knew she wanted marriage. All he wanted was a fourth cherry. Poor girls are so desperate and dumb.
Standing up, Jason threw the remnants of the piece of chicken into the pound. He walked over to a big boulder and sat with his back to the stone. Patting the ground with one hand and signaled for her to come next to him. He shoved the other hand down his pants, massaged his cock, it responded by stuffing.
“Come here sit with me and let’s get to know each other better,” he said. “I want to feed you something better than the chicken.” Tears welled in Erin’s eyes. “What?”
“You’re not interested in me,” she said.
“Yes, I am. I just don’t want to wait,” Jason insisted.
“No,” she said in disbelief. Erin turned away looking at the water. From nowhere Iberian moved to the male. Jason jumped to his feet clutching the grip of his sidearm. Iberian reached out placed his thumb just behind Jason’s ear, the stinger tore into the tender flesh. Jason collapsed to the ground, he tried to scream a warning. Jason couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, or even whisper he could only watch in terror.
.... There is more of this story ...