Sixteen days.
Flora Arkenmire's mission to The Nightmare was supposed to take seventy-two hours, tops. The extraction team waiting for her in the designated location would be long gone by now- she hoped. The alternative was worse. She had been here for sixteen days. Her boneash garb offered excellent protection from harm, and she had brought a standard three weeks of rations, but she had to admit she was starting to feel the pressure.
Directed by Derek Braasch. With Caitlin McScandal. A forced love story between a girl and her tentacle. A forced love story between a girl and her tentacle.
Flora had never been to any of the locations where fighting took place during the bad old days of the First World War, but she had seen the wartime recordings and heard testimony from her father. This was, if anything, worse.
Here and there, glimpses of what she could tell was Yharnam peeked through- ruined stonework, overgrown gardens, shattered statuary. Most of its surface, however, was covered in pulsing growth.
The fleshy mold that accompanied Breeder infestation was everywhere. At first, Flora had tried to keep from touching it. She had always been a fastidious person, and even in her boneash garb, it was too disgusting to countenance. But it was impossible. The mold had started out thick and, as she progressed towards her mission site, it became omnipresent.
The mission, She had been trying not to think about it, but there it was again. Choir Agents had been sent after other agents before- really, they were the natural choice when an agent went rogue and had to be taken down- but none had ever gotten close to Mairah Grimm.
Whatever the woman was now, she had been a Choir Agent once, and one of the most beloved by the people of the Healing Church and the Choir. She knew all of their tactics, all of their tricks, all of their standard procedures. At least, almost all, Flora hoped.
She had never met Grimm when she was still human. Part of her regretted that. It burned her that her PI was only ever going to be second-best at the Choir. She had read Grimm's file- the brunette had always been reckless, headstrong. Flora was nothing if not cool and collected. If it ever came down to it, woman to woman, her Ōkatana and Keeper powers against Grimm's considerable psychic abilities, she liked her chances. Too bad it was too late to test that hypothesis. Whatever Grimm was now was not a fair fight. Flora wasn't going to call her out, Marshal-style- she was going to bury her boneash Ōkatana right into the Breeder Queen' heart.
Tentacle Graffiti
That was, at least, the theory.
Flora had been dropped in as part of a diversionary attack by a combined Choir/Hunter force. It rankled her to work with her Father's closest friends, people she hardly knew even as a child, but she had to respect their skills. They, like her were all skilled fighters but she was a hybrid and didn't fit in with either party of her parentage and in their presence, she felt herself retreating. It always amazed her that sharp witted Hunters like Nerim Brawnwen could fight the Breeders without discomfort. Didn't she know what they could do to her? The virtues of ignorance, she supposed. The Choir's brightest arcane users were, supposedly, projecting a psychic shroud that would keep Flora from being detected by the numerous Breeders that Grimm surrounded herself with after becoming their matriarch, not least Grimm herself. She wasn't sure if she trusted that, but she had to admit that they definitely wanted her mission to succeed.
That was then, though. She wasn't sure if they were even still trying. She had to assume they were. If they weren't, she was dead- it was only a matter of time. She had splattered a pair of Females on her way towards the central hive cluster and her traps had taken out numerous infant breeders and the hosts they emerged from, but there were always more of them. Flora wasn't going to be taken alive, though. In addition to her Ōkatana, she had an Albrecht Repeating Revolver given to her by her boyfriend Byron, and she knew that point-blank her armor wouldn't do a thing to stop a bullet.
Not a thing.
She picked her way carefully down a ridge of squirming pale orange flesh. At this point, the hellish landscapes were just another challenge. A river of multicolored ichor was just another river to cross. Her garb was masking her heat signature, and the Ghost Caryll Rune engraved into her forearm was doing an excellent job keeping her out of the way of the nearly omnipresent Breeders, the damned things were everywhere. They hunted like sharks, she recalled, sensing electrical impulses. Or echolocating, or something. Whatever they were doing, her boneash garb was keeping her nice and invisible.
Up ahead the landscape fell away into a deep cavern. Concentrating, she blinked up a torchglow map of the target region. This cave structure matched the one that, according to intelligence, served as the entrance to a large Breeder hive.
These tunnels crisscrossed the Nightmare and allowed the Breeders to move without exposing themselves to their prey- a necessity, ever since the joint operation to retake the Nightmare had begun months ago. Grimm herself supposedly used them, though she wasn't expected here. This was just to get Flora closer to the central cluster.
She wondered idly if she would be extracted after succeeding. The Breeders would surely be in disarray, and she could slip away. If she ran out of food before the others showed up, she was sure she could scavenge something. Parts of the Nightmare had to be uncorrupted. And if this was her last mission… well, so what? Her name would live on the Hall of Memory in the Choir forever. Not every Huntress could say that they swung the blade that murdered a species.
It was while pursuing this happy line of thought that Flora Arkenmire realized something had gone wrong. The corridor she was following dead-ended just fifty feet ahead of her. That wasn't right at all. She distinctly remembered seeing it continue into darkness when she first dropped down here. Yes- there, up ahead, a pulsing sphincter in the wall showed where it had closed off. She looked around behind her just in time to see a similar barrier squeeze itself shut.
Flora cursed. They had made her. The important thing now was not to panic. She had tools, she could cut through the wall and make it to the highlands, lose herself in the rocky scrubland…
The darkness hissed and resolved into a pair of glowing orange eyes. From the height and distance between the eyes, she estimated it was a mid-size male. Bad news- her repeater had bullets that were made for taking out heavy targets. With a sigh fire began to dance in the palm of her hand as she drew her Ōkatana with her other hand.
The Breeder thumped forward on four heavy limbs, and Flora realized her miscalculation. It wasn't a Male at all. It was a type of Breeder she had never seen before- four heavy limbs and a half-dozen smaller ones that skittered to keep up. Its bulbous abdominal sac was filled with what could have easily been hundreds of eggs, and a frond of tentacles surrounding a sphincter like mouth similar to a sea anemone, that shifted back and forth in a way that made her unaccountably queasy.
It lurched toward her, and she rolled away, throwing a large bolt of fire at the beast and bringing her repeater up she fired a rapid burst of three rounds. Her aim was, as ever, excellent, and the creature keened as ichor spouted from a triangle of impacts near its shoulder joint. It came on regardless, and Flora fired again and again while backpedaling until her cylinder ran dry and she was forced to reload. These shots spanged off the thing's knee, which was covered in a bony carapace. She circled backward and took aim at one of its deeply-set, glowing eyes. Her seventh shot after she had reloaded the repeater with a fresh set of six rounds was good, but the creature ducked at the last minute and the round deflected off its bony brow crest.
Sixteen days.
Flora Arkenmire's mission to The Nightmare was supposed to take seventy-two hours, tops. The extraction team waiting for her in the designated location would be long gone by now- she hoped. The alternative was worse. She had been here for sixteen days. Her boneash garb offered excellent protection from harm, and she had brought a standard three weeks of rations, but she had to admit she was starting to feel the pressure.
Directed by Derek Braasch. With Caitlin McScandal. A forced love story between a girl and her tentacle. A forced love story between a girl and her tentacle.
Flora had never been to any of the locations where fighting took place during the bad old days of the First World War, but she had seen the wartime recordings and heard testimony from her father. This was, if anything, worse.
Here and there, glimpses of what she could tell was Yharnam peeked through- ruined stonework, overgrown gardens, shattered statuary. Most of its surface, however, was covered in pulsing growth.
The fleshy mold that accompanied Breeder infestation was everywhere. At first, Flora had tried to keep from touching it. She had always been a fastidious person, and even in her boneash garb, it was too disgusting to countenance. But it was impossible. The mold had started out thick and, as she progressed towards her mission site, it became omnipresent.
The mission, She had been trying not to think about it, but there it was again. Choir Agents had been sent after other agents before- really, they were the natural choice when an agent went rogue and had to be taken down- but none had ever gotten close to Mairah Grimm.
Whatever the woman was now, she had been a Choir Agent once, and one of the most beloved by the people of the Healing Church and the Choir. She knew all of their tactics, all of their tricks, all of their standard procedures. At least, almost all, Flora hoped.
She had never met Grimm when she was still human. Part of her regretted that. It burned her that her PI was only ever going to be second-best at the Choir. She had read Grimm's file- the brunette had always been reckless, headstrong. Flora was nothing if not cool and collected. If it ever came down to it, woman to woman, her Ōkatana and Keeper powers against Grimm's considerable psychic abilities, she liked her chances. Too bad it was too late to test that hypothesis. Whatever Grimm was now was not a fair fight. Flora wasn't going to call her out, Marshal-style- she was going to bury her boneash Ōkatana right into the Breeder Queen' heart.
Tentacle Graffiti
That was, at least, the theory.
Flora had been dropped in as part of a diversionary attack by a combined Choir/Hunter force. It rankled her to work with her Father's closest friends, people she hardly knew even as a child, but she had to respect their skills. They, like her were all skilled fighters but she was a hybrid and didn't fit in with either party of her parentage and in their presence, she felt herself retreating. It always amazed her that sharp witted Hunters like Nerim Brawnwen could fight the Breeders without discomfort. Didn't she know what they could do to her? The virtues of ignorance, she supposed. The Choir's brightest arcane users were, supposedly, projecting a psychic shroud that would keep Flora from being detected by the numerous Breeders that Grimm surrounded herself with after becoming their matriarch, not least Grimm herself. She wasn't sure if she trusted that, but she had to admit that they definitely wanted her mission to succeed.
That was then, though. She wasn't sure if they were even still trying. She had to assume they were. If they weren't, she was dead- it was only a matter of time. She had splattered a pair of Females on her way towards the central hive cluster and her traps had taken out numerous infant breeders and the hosts they emerged from, but there were always more of them. Flora wasn't going to be taken alive, though. In addition to her Ōkatana, she had an Albrecht Repeating Revolver given to her by her boyfriend Byron, and she knew that point-blank her armor wouldn't do a thing to stop a bullet.
Not a thing.
She picked her way carefully down a ridge of squirming pale orange flesh. At this point, the hellish landscapes were just another challenge. A river of multicolored ichor was just another river to cross. Her garb was masking her heat signature, and the Ghost Caryll Rune engraved into her forearm was doing an excellent job keeping her out of the way of the nearly omnipresent Breeders, the damned things were everywhere. They hunted like sharks, she recalled, sensing electrical impulses. Or echolocating, or something. Whatever they were doing, her boneash garb was keeping her nice and invisible.
Up ahead the landscape fell away into a deep cavern. Concentrating, she blinked up a torchglow map of the target region. This cave structure matched the one that, according to intelligence, served as the entrance to a large Breeder hive.
These tunnels crisscrossed the Nightmare and allowed the Breeders to move without exposing themselves to their prey- a necessity, ever since the joint operation to retake the Nightmare had begun months ago. Grimm herself supposedly used them, though she wasn't expected here. This was just to get Flora closer to the central cluster.
She wondered idly if she would be extracted after succeeding. The Breeders would surely be in disarray, and she could slip away. If she ran out of food before the others showed up, she was sure she could scavenge something. Parts of the Nightmare had to be uncorrupted. And if this was her last mission… well, so what? Her name would live on the Hall of Memory in the Choir forever. Not every Huntress could say that they swung the blade that murdered a species.
It was while pursuing this happy line of thought that Flora Arkenmire realized something had gone wrong. The corridor she was following dead-ended just fifty feet ahead of her. That wasn't right at all. She distinctly remembered seeing it continue into darkness when she first dropped down here. Yes- there, up ahead, a pulsing sphincter in the wall showed where it had closed off. She looked around behind her just in time to see a similar barrier squeeze itself shut.
Flora cursed. They had made her. The important thing now was not to panic. She had tools, she could cut through the wall and make it to the highlands, lose herself in the rocky scrubland…
The darkness hissed and resolved into a pair of glowing orange eyes. From the height and distance between the eyes, she estimated it was a mid-size male. Bad news- her repeater had bullets that were made for taking out heavy targets. With a sigh fire began to dance in the palm of her hand as she drew her Ōkatana with her other hand.
The Breeder thumped forward on four heavy limbs, and Flora realized her miscalculation. It wasn't a Male at all. It was a type of Breeder she had never seen before- four heavy limbs and a half-dozen smaller ones that skittered to keep up. Its bulbous abdominal sac was filled with what could have easily been hundreds of eggs, and a frond of tentacles surrounding a sphincter like mouth similar to a sea anemone, that shifted back and forth in a way that made her unaccountably queasy.
It lurched toward her, and she rolled away, throwing a large bolt of fire at the beast and bringing her repeater up she fired a rapid burst of three rounds. Her aim was, as ever, excellent, and the creature keened as ichor spouted from a triangle of impacts near its shoulder joint. It came on regardless, and Flora fired again and again while backpedaling until her cylinder ran dry and she was forced to reload. These shots spanged off the thing's knee, which was covered in a bony carapace. She circled backward and took aim at one of its deeply-set, glowing eyes. Her seventh shot after she had reloaded the repeater with a fresh set of six rounds was good, but the creature ducked at the last minute and the round deflected off its bony brow crest.
Flora tried to back up further, but found that she had reached the limit of the room. The creature was still advancing. She made a split-second decision and broke left. The Breeder whirled as she barreled past it and came up in a roll that nearly cleared the reach of its tentacles.
Nearly.
Flora felt something muscular wrap itself around her right ankle a moment before she was pulled down. She sprawled heavily on the floor with an 'Oof!' as her repeater bounced away from her. Looking down, she could see that one of the anemone-frond tentacles had extended by several meters. Her ankle was wrapped in a cord of bubblegum-pink flesh that contracted as she looked at it, pulling her closer to the beast. She reached for her Ōkatana at her waist, thinking one good swing might sever it, when another tentacle grabbed her wrist.
They descended on her. Thick, slimy pseudopods wrapped around both wrists and both ankles, her waist, her neck. She could feel them flexing, probing, until the one around her neck found her boneash mask's pressurized release catch. The skull-faced six eyed mask popped off and clattered across the cave floor
Instantly, the smell of the fleshy Breeder mold filled Flora's nostrils. She gagged and almost vomited, but kept her gorge down. This was, she knew, very bad. She wished she had managed to grab her sword, not so she could stab or slash her captor, but so she could avoid what was coming. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good.
One of the tentacles wrapped around both arms, pinning them to her waist, and lifted her up. The rest withdrew. The creature hefted her as though she were weightless, bringing her up in front of its eyes and regarding her with a cold intellect that sent chills up Flora's spine. Some of the Breeders were no more than beasts, but not this one.
Two of its smaller tentacles began to caress her waist. Was caress the right word? They were moving rhythmically… Flora looked down and gasped in horror. The tentacles had grown some kind of rough texture, like tiny hooks, and were shredding the tough boneash of her garb like it was cheesecloth. Underneath she wore a simple black satin undergarments; these too disappeared into scraps. She kicked her legs frantically, but a pair of pink tentacles gripped her ankles and pulled them apart. More of the tentacles scraped away her garb from the waist to her stomach, then mercifully stopped. The loosest tatters of her beloved boneash garb made for her by her mother, hung around her chest and shoulders. Her Breeder assailant seemed satisfied by this. It lowered her to the floor and pinned her there, head down, cheek scraping painfully into the stone floor of the cavern. Her legs remained wrenched open, and Flora lay there dreading what would come next.
She didn't have long to wait. Something cold and slimy was sliding up her leg. It felt like a tentacle, but thinner and rounder than the others. Where it passed it left a trail of slime that made her skin tingle numbly. The probing appendage climbed her leg and slithered across one butt cheek, paused, then began to worm its way down in between her cheeks.
'No! NO!' Flora shouted and thrashed in the iron grip. It made no difference. She felt the tentacle's wet tip pressing against her lower lips. She tried to clench, but the muscles behind the invader were several times larger than hers. The pressure against her slit built and built until she felt it slide inside of her.
Life is strange season 2. 'AAAAGGGHHH!' Flora cried out in pain as the tentacle surged inside of her. She was no virgin but the sudden invasion of her depths by a tentacle the width of her wrist sent a bolt of agony up her spine. She felt herself being stretched out. The same numb tingling that had put her leg to sleep spread out from her depths, but it wasn't enough to dull the pain. The tentacle pushed itself inside of her, inch by inch. She groaned as she felt her walls involuntarily clench around it. It seemed to be passing endlessly into her. Before she felt it stop at her cervix, she imagined it snaking through her cervix, coming to rest in her womb…
The tentacle paused and she felt it discharge a torrent of warm goop inside her. She shuddered and retched at the alien sensation. Her womb flooded with the Breeder's ejaculate, and she swore she could feel her belly expand a little. After filling her, the beast paused for a moment, then the tentacle began to flex. Each expansion stretched her abused entrance further and made her stifle another yelp of pain. She wouldn't give this monster the satisfaction of hearing her agony. She tried to look down to see what was happening to her, but couldn't see past the tentacle.
Soon enough, though, she felt something pressing against her pried-open entrance. Whatever it was, it was larger than the tentacle already in there. Grimy tears streamed down Flora's cheeks as she felt whatever it was pressed against her abused entrance. It was inside the tentacle, whatever it was. One last flex of the tentacle, and it popped into her womb like a cork out of a bottle. Flora did scream then, loud and long. 'AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!' The object felt like an orb, slightly oval in shape and squishy… Flora's heart nearly stopped as she realized what it was. An egg. The Breeder was laying eggs inside of her. This triggered a redoubled bout of screaming and flailing, the only effect of which was to make her abused pussy send spikes of pain out across her body.
Another egg started pressing at her cervix, and Flora sobbed quietly. This one slid into her womb without nearly as much difficulty as the first one. Flora reflected that she must be pretty busted-up down there. Whatever resistance she had was broken. She lay limp in the monster's clutches as it pumped egg after egg deep into her womb. She twitched and shuddered as each one packed itself deeper and deeper. Every few eggs, it would pause and unleash another torrent of the warm sticky stuff, which began to leak around the edges of the tentacle.
When the Breeder finally released the impregnated host from its grasp, she lay twitching and moaning on the floor of the cavernous room. When its ovipositor was withdrawn, the host's birthing-hole slowly started to return to normal. A steady stream of the orange medium flowed from it trailing down her thighs, forming a puddle that pooled between her legs. The Breeder felt confident that the host could not escape with this many eggs inside of her, but it was better to be safe than sorry; as it dragged her to the wall and rubbed the cave-organism's sense-organs. In response, two pairs of tentacles emerged from holes in the wall and wrapped up the host's wrists and ankles, pulling them snug against the wall. This would keep her secured, at least long enough for the young to hatch.
Satisfied, the Breeder trundled off down the newly-reopened corridor. Left behind, Flora's repeater and sword slowly covered with a layer of orange fleshy mold. When the rest of the Hunters came to reclaim the infested Nightmare, perhaps they would be found. Or perhaps not.
Left alone finally, Flora broke down into silent sobs as she rest against the wall, suspended by the fleshly mold-like overgrowth, belly filled to the brim with eggs. Looking at herself, she looked like a mother in her ninth month of pregnancy. 'Mommy… Daddy…' She whimpered out as darkness took her as exhaustion set in from her ordeal.
Elsewhere, The Breeder that had just impregnated Flora had spotted another viable host wandering the tunnels though this one wasn't alone as a male carrying a sword at his side appeared around the corner. 'This way Merrick! The charm Nerco gave us to track Flora is resonating when I head this way!' the slender woman said as she unknowingly walked right past the Breeder not even seeing it due in part to the bony carapace that covered it allowing it to blend in with the walls of the hive. 'What if we're too late Kara… Have you even stopped to think about that?' The one she referred to as Merrick spoke behind her. Turing to face him she spoke, 'If that's the case then we'll do whatever it takes to get her out of this place even if we have to carry her out' Kara said as she walked into the tunnel to be met with a horrifying sight…
To Be Continued in Chapter 2
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