Black List I: Ghosts
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2018 by Armera Llsehi

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Beneath the world as we know it lies another. This one is fraught with dangers and unimaginable horrors. But there is a force that fights it, one that is so secret they are able to keep this other world a secret, but all that is about to change. But will the threat of what the world might think greater than the evil they already face?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Fiction   Crime   Science Fiction   Paranormal   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   Violence  

Spencer and Samantha race through the parking garage looking for any available spot to park. And with not having any luck in finding a place, Spencer says, “The hell with it. Just park off to the side.”

“Spence, this is my car we’re talking about here,” Sam says in protest. “I’ll be lucky if it’s not towed by the end of the day.”

“You think they’ll tow a senior agent of TDF?” he asks. When Sam casts him a look that says otherwise, he frowns. “You’re right, they would. We’ll just send Adams down to move it.”

Roger is expecting them and time is of the essence. Even though the TDF is technically a secret organization they still have to answer to someone. And since time is of the essence and the whole situation has escalated, they need to get in to headquarters fast.

“Alright, but if my car disappears I’m taking yours,” she says with a devious grin.

“As long as get to drive it every now and again,” Spencer counters.

“Deal,” she agrees.

Humor has always been something both the agents could use to escape the pressures of their work or any of the situations they came across. Because of this and the chemistry the two have formed, it has become something more than this. It is a way for them to bond in a way no other couples could. But even without a relationship outside of work with a partner, those working for the TDF have to find an outlet. Most people aren’t equipped to deal with the pressure these agents have to deal with. And many find creative ways to deal with it, but some do not and that’s when alcohol or drugs enter the picture. And of course, having a family can make it more difficult. Because of this, relationships beyond partnerships are generally frowned upon. For that few like Spencer and Samantha, they are overlooked because of how it helps them carry on and stay successful at their work.

“There,” Spencer says, pointing out an empty space.

“I see it,” Sam confirms. “You’d think by now, at least the senior agents would have assigned parking.”

“Yeah, but you can’t give something to someone that technically doesn’t exist,” Spencer reasons.

“True.” Sam pulls into the empty spot.

They are about to climb out of the car when Spencer places a hand on his partner’s shoulder, holding her back against the seat. “Wait,” he says.

“Don’t tell me you got a bad feeling,” she says, looking around out the windows.

Spencer looks around too. They aren’t looking for a particular person as they are something in particular. The parking garage is reasonably well lit, providing adequate lighting. Then out of the corner of his eye, something in the shadows looks to being moving. Spencer turns his head in that direction only to see nothing.

Seeing her partner’s reaction, her eyes search out the same spot. “Did you see something?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he answers, scanning in the direction he believes it could have gone.

“They are really getting bold coming here,” Sam remarks.

“That they are,” he agrees. “Things are ... get out!”

Without needing to look for herself or questioning her partner, Samantha opens the door and dives for the pavement. Spencer follows suit, right behind her, throwing himself over her body. Less than a second later the car explodes with a deafening blast. Both agents are flung wildly across the ground, rolling and twisting over one another until slamming into another of the parked cars.

Standing up, Spencer feels a bit disoriented, but nothing too serious. He feels the attack coming and therefore doesn’t bother with his gun. There isn’t time to pull it let alone use it. The creature slams into the man with enormous speed, knocking the air out of him. Together they fly away from the car and into the wall.

For a moment, Spencer is knocked unconscious. The creature then turns from the man and toward the direction if his partner. Instantly, instinct takes over. And unlike Spencer, Sam has time to pull her weapon. She takes aim and fires. As soon as she pulls the trigger there is a little voice in the back of her head telling her not to do so, to just leave it be and let it take her. She tries to ignore it and fires anyway. Samantha is one of the best marksmen in the unit, yet every shot she takes misses.

Spencer comes back around, hearing the gun being fired and feeling the pelting of shattered concrete raining down from above. It takes a moment for everything to come back to him clearly. As his vision focuses he takes note in which direction the bullets are coming from and what exactly is taking place. About this time, Sam empties her clip. Once again the voice in the back of her mind urges her to shy away from reloading. And upon hindering her from doing just that, the creature has ample time to reach her. The beast grabs the woman by the throat and lifts her into the air.

Gasping for air and clawing at her attacker’s hands, she says, “Spence ... get this ... son of ... of me...”

“Hang on, Sam,” Spencer yells, springing to his feet, reaching for his gun. His weapon is loaded with the latest upgrade in TDF ammo. The bullets are hollow point rounds filled with holy water.

As cheesy as it seems, their enemy is vulnerable to them. This was something discovered a long time ago by TDF’s predecessors. Like it is said, every myth or legend is steeped in some truth. When Spencer asked the last known member of that long forgotten faction how the water was made to be so effective, he was told, ‘You have to boil the hell out of it’.

Spencer never saw the man again after that. “Not the time to be reminiscing,” he chides himself aloud. He chambers a round and yells, “Be a nice beasty and come play with me!”

Growling, the beast glares at Sam. “I’m going to enjoy you, but first I’ve got a little bug to squash.” He bangs the agent’s head against the car, instantly knocking her unconscious and then he tosses Sam into another nearby car like a ragdoll for good measure. He turns toward Spencer, snarling, “Alright little man.” The creature’s chuckle that follows sounds more like a hungry stomach rumbling. “Ooh, what’s that? You’re little gun going to pinch me? Show me what you got.”

“You know exactly what this is,” Spencer says amusingly with a lopsided grin. “And it’s not just going to bite it’s going to take your fucking head right off.”

Standing fully upright, the beast seemingly dares the man to do it. “Delgrious said you were a fool,” he proclaims. “I didn’t think I was going to be able to play with my food though.”

Without countering with a quip of his own, Spencer fires, shooting the creature in the leg. He wants it to know what kind of food he is before killing it. Blowing a hole the size of a softball into its leg really sets the creature off. Spencer knows that the single shot won’t do much more than piss the thing off, but he couldn’t help it. And this was probably a mistake.

Furious, the beast roars with such ferocity that the entire garage shakes. If there is ever a lesson to be learned it’s to never go easy on the enemy. These creatures have been around for a very long time, and some are more expendable then others. The creature continues to roar, increasing in strength. The garage’s foundations begin to quake. The roar is so deafening that Spencer has to drop his gun in order to cover his ears before his eardrums burst. And as soon as the beast sees this, he charges at the man.

But Spencer is also prepared for this. This isn’t his first rodeo, and if he has anything to say about, it isn’t going to be his last. He lets the beast’s arrogance get the best of him. And at the last moment, Spencer sidesteps the creature, throwing out his leg in a roundhouse kick to catch it at its midsection. This sends the creature doubling over and running head first into the wall, sending cracks in every direction like a rock hitting a windshield.

He creature bellows with even more ferocity than before. Pillars crack and crumble. The ceiling follows suit, pieces falling down in large chunks. “Damn you, human! No one has ever gotten the best of me. I’ve killed many of you and I’ll be damned if you are the first!”

Diving, Spencer’s mind is only on one thing. He scoops up his gun, rolling up to his feet into a crouch. “Yes, you will be damned,” he says. Then pulling the trigger, he empties all the rounds into the breast.

The overabundance of holy water shifts through it, creating a massive light just before it explodes into a cloud of ash and dust. But its death isn’t the end. With the already weakened and crumbling structure, the shockwave that follows only adds to the problem. Needing to act quick, Spencer holsters his weapon and searches his partner out. It’s only a matter of seconds before the sky falls.


The sniper rests his gun over the edge of the building. He wasn’t given an exact time for his quarry to arrive, but he is a patient man. He has to be in his profession. One doesn’t become highly recommended without patience and skill. And Crosshairs has both. But regardless of skill, this is an easy job. One shot and then he disappears. His payment has already been made and once it is over, Hanson won’t hear from him again.

Normally a job like this he doesn’t take, it’s too boring—no challenge. But the terrorist leader was adamant about it. And he did owe the man a favor, even if the favor came with a paycheck. And the money is better than most of the jobs he had taken for Hanson in the past. But what’s ironic here is that Crosshairs is about to take out the guy that the money is coming from. Irony is a bitch. He smiles at the thought.

After years of being a professional assassin, it has begun to wear him down. This is why this will be just not his last for Hanson, but for anyone. It is time to retire and live out the rest of his days with just memories. He has enough saved to buy a small island and disappear from the world. To add even more irony to the pot, he is only here doing what he does because of the training and betrayal of his country.

 
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