Chapter 1

Detective Alison Frost stands just outside the door to what appears as an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. Her partner Detective Elizabeth Mason is on the opposite end of the building, covering any escape routes their suspects might attempt to use. Back up is on its way, but their informant has notified them of the groups impending pull-out from the warehouse.

Alison and Elizabeth have been investigating this group for months now and this is the first break the two have gotten since their investigation has begun. The group known as Future’s First has been developing what is suspected to be some form of unknown novelty bioweapon. When this information came through both detectives jumped at the opportunity to take down the group.

Alison taps the side of her headset and whispers, “It’s clear. I’m going in.”

“Copy,” comes Elizabeth’s from the other end. “I’ll give you ten seconds, and then I’m going.”

“See you inside,” Alison answers.

She takes a deep breath and steps away from the side of the door. Raising her leg up, she drives the heel of her foot as hard as she can into the door, next to the handle. The door gives a little resistance, but then the door jamb buckles and the door is sent flying open, slamming into the wall.

The hall ahead is lightly lit. As Alison steps into the hall, she raises her pistol in front of her, finger just hovering over the trigger. Her other hand hold a flash light beneath the pistol, shinning it ahead of her. Red hair glows lightly under the low lights while the rest of her body blends almost in with the shadows surrounding her.

She checks each of the rooms along her path, each single one unlocked and completely empty. Either the group has already cleared out or these rooms weren’t being used in the first place. Alison opts for the latter, considering that if the group had already cleared out, they had done a hell of a job in leaving nothing behind.

Finally, Alison comes to the door at the end of the hall. She reaches for the handle, splaying light from the flashlight against the door. The handle jiggles slightly before finally giving way and turning. Slowly, she pushes the door open with her booted foot. Her hand comes back up under the pistol, shinning a light into the semi-darkness of the open expanse that sprawls out before her.

Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. There is computer equipment, tables, monitors and papers. There papers seem dropped all around the open expanse. They are scattered on the tables, desks and floor, but there is not a single soul anywhere. The lights flicker, or at least what remains of the lights.

Alison flashes her flight around the room and it isn’t until now that she sees the blood. It is splattered everywhere, but there aren’t any bodies to match. The only sounds besides her footsteps are those of the computers and something dripping, which she assumes is blood. Suddenly she hears the sound of gunfire.

Her mind screams. Elizabeth!

Her hand whips back up to her headset, pressing it. “Elizabeth! Come in!”

Static is all she receives. Frantically she tries it again.

“Elizabeth! Are you alright? Over.”

Still there is no answer. Panic seizes her, and then she remembers her training. Panic will get her nowhere. She focuses in the direction of where the gunfire came from and starts in a sprint for the far end of the room toward a single door.

She manages to make it maybe half way across the room when her foot hits something and she falls to the floor. Alison manages to stop her fall from doing too much damage, but both her gun and flashlight get scattered in the process. She hears both clattering to the ground, but in the low lighting the only thing to come into view immediately is her flashlight which remains on.

Her heart starts to race right away. It is fast and primal. She knows she shouldn’t have fallen as she was certain the path she just rushed through has been clear and she has always been surefooted when running, whether after a suspect or any other time. She reaches instinctively for the flashlight, but then regrets it. Something snakes around her ankle and snaps her back and up into the air, making her lose grip on the flashlight.

As she is dragged along the floor, her hand slides across the cool and familiar grip of her pistol and she quickly close her hand around the grip. Since she can’t see, Alison fires at the darkness below me. The bullets strike nothing, there is nothing below her. Just empty blackness and long, thin tendrils that are starting to surround her.

She feels a tear forms in her pants almost right away, and then beneath the fabric, a warm limb reaches, and snakes under there toward her underwear. She fires a couple more times until the click of an empty gun rings in her ears. By then, more tendrils have made their way into and under her pants. Before she can think of what is happening, her pants are completely shredded from her body.

The first tendril slips under her underwear by the time her mind comes back around to what is happening. She feels it brush past her pussy lips with radiating heat, as it pulls her panties down. She feels the elastic fabric of her panties slide down her bare thighs. Alison’s sensations heighten thanks to her lack of sight. She can’t believe it, let alone can her mind truly comprehend what is going on. One second this thing has ripped her pants to shreds, the next it is taking her panties off delicately.

Suspended in midair, Alison drops her useless pistol and grabs at the tendrils that squirm to enter her pussy. She bats the warm, thick limbs away, which feel like soft, muscular worms. Two more limbs grab her arms, holding her spread eagle in the air. Helpless and immobile, Alison feels a thick tendril enter her.

She is terrified, waiting for her last horrible moments of life. The seconds stretch as it enters her, and she waits for it to reach up into her chest and grab her heart. She figures it would be the most logical way to kill her, at least she hopes. Strangulation or other even more horribly torturous deaths do not appeal to her.

However, Alison is very wrong. Instead of continuing into her body, the tendril rams against her cervix, and then it withdraws. It moves slowly, drawing in and then coming out again. She is not expecting this, nor the feeling like a cock fucking her.

Multiple tendrils enter her pussy, each of them pleasuring themselves inside of her. They squirm against the walls of her pussy. As if that isn’t enough, she notices a couple tendrils slide up over her ass cheeks before pulling them apart. Alison nervously wonders how many tendrils this thing really has. Then, and without any more warning, a tendril enters her ass, and she feels the weird violation of anal sex. She has never had anal sex before, and the surprise makes her uneasy. However, the moving of the tendrils quickly begins to feel so good.

In fact, Alison feels her pussy start having involuntary spasms. The tendrils don’t stop for a second, even when she squirms and thrashes, and the violation is making her wet. It disregards anything she says, seeking the pleasure of her body.

Then, for the first time, Alison hears the voice of the thing. ‘You are the one I have been looking for.’

It is now that Alison meets what is attacking her, or rather causing her such pleasure. Face to face with her captor, she is horrified by what she sees. The thing is a completely black mass, save for its vast, pure white eyes and sharp white teeth. A massively long tongue sticks out and licks her face as more tendrils come out and slither over the smooth skin of her belly, feeling around the bare space of her back and chest. Then, under her shirt, it discovers her nipple. A tendril fixes itself to the hard little pink nub, and Alison feels the sweet stimulation.

The sturdy cotton made clothing is easily torn from Alison, showing the strength of the phantom tendrils. She counts maybe ten tendrils on her. They touch her gently, not causing any pain but rather pleasure, like fingers flowing lightly over her bare skin. Three more tendrils slither around her pussy, where the other tendrils continue to pound inside her. They don’t stop for anything.

She feels the collection of tendrils in her pussy pick up speed, and they start to feverishly whirl inside her as a single unit, like a twisted piece of rope. Warm, sticky liquid fills her hole and starts pouring out of her, so much that she feels like she is peeing. The spent tendrils slip out of her, covered in their own fluids and more come and take their place. They enter her one at a time, so she can feel each one of them shiver into her tight pussy. The tendril in Alison’s ass moves thickly and slowly, heightening the pressure in her pelvis, and making the pleasure all the more beautiful.

A tendril latches on to her clit, pulling on it with vacuum force and slithering around like a soft, wet tongue. Alison moans, and starts to orgasm. The tendrils don’t let up, continuing in a steady rhythm as she climaxes. The thing releases a deep rumbling noise and starts picking up the pace. More tendrils spew inside her, and slither out to be replaced. Tendrils swirl around her nipples, and some slide up her neck. The thing sloppily licks her face again, slicking it with sweet smelling saliva.

Then a tendril slides past her lips, wedging her teeth open and flapping around in her mouth. She feels the thing with her tongue, and it is like a worm slathering the inside of her mouth. However, the horrifying fear slowly ceases and Alison begins to caress slithering tendril with her tongue, and the creature rumbles with pleasure. As she orgasms again, she begins to start liking this thing.