Talia awoke.
Her sense of smell was the first to strike her; dirt, filth, shit and animal. This blend rushed into her nostrils, flooding her brain. Normally these smells would offend her, but they didn’t; they comforted her.
She heard moaning and heavy breathing, like people fucking. No, there was panic in those sounds, not the sounds of lust.
Talia opened her eyes, blinking, trying to get them to clear. The room was dark with a lone bulb hanging from the ceiling. She was on the earthen floor; her spit formed a muddy pool at the corner of her mouth. Slowly, awaiting the rush of pain, she sat up.
Nothing. She felt nothing. Not a bump, bruise or cut. She touched her body, her once shattered ankle, feeling it healed. Not only healed, but not even a hint of pain.
The muffled grunts grabbed her attention again. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, but she wasn’t alone.
A man sat in a chair under the lightbulb. He was disheveled, dirty and bloody. He was tied to the chair with a long piece of wire. A rag was tied around his mouth and his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. Blood soaked the rag at the corners of his mouth. His beard was scraggly and filthy. Long hair was matted and greasy, a shade of brown akin to the contents of a septic tank. There was something else; something radiating from him. Something bad. It wasn’t his smell, but that was quite offensive. No, it was something emotional. It was thick in the air. Pain, suffering, brutality oozed from the man, like sludge in a gutter. Slick and putrid.
“Do you feel it?” a voice spoke behind Talia.
She turned her head.
Two sets of red eyes; one man and one beast, glowed in the darkness.
‘The man and his dog,’ she thought, her memories coming back to her. The car ride, the stabbing, her slashing Ingrid, jumping from the car, her broken bones and being shot. She made a deal with him, a dying wish to live…
The man and his dog stepped into the dim light reaching Talia. He was tall, his head nearly touching the low ceiling. His eyes flashed, returning back to a normal dark shade. The dog, its eyes normal again too, sat next him, staring at her.
Talia felt it. She felt the pure evil wafting from the vagrant in the chair.
“No,” she lied, knowing it was no use. The man knew. He seemed to know all.
He smiled, teeth shockingly white against his dark skin. His grin split unnaturally wide and he let out a throaty chuckle.
“Stand up,” he made a motion with his hands, gesturing for her to rise.
Talia did, brushing dirt from her clothes.
“Try harder,” he said, pointing behind her at the tied-up man.
Talia turned, no concern about having this strange man and dog at her back. Pain, suffering, fear, they all came off the vagrant in the chair. Talia walked forward, her fingers outstretched.
The man bucked, trying to break the wire holding him. His eyes widened with panic as the small, attractive young woman reached out. Snot bubbled from his nose as he pulled far back as possible.
Her skin met his.
‘Raped corpses. Dirty, shit-filled panties. A rotten smile, teeth bloodied. Clear porcelain skin, flecked with blood. Open, dead eyes, locked in fear. “Mama,” a phantom voice whined.’
Talia let him go and fell back. She was wide-eyed and breathed heavy.
He looked at her in rage and disgust. She knew what he wanted to do to her. What he’d done to countless homeless women and girls. Never again. Talia stood, a tempest rising in her. There was a tap on her shoulder.
She turned, face to face with the tall man, the man who saved her.
“Here,” he said, holding something out to her. “This is yours.” The folded razor called to her, begged her to take it. The spine of the blade reflected the dull light, brighter than it should.
Talia took it, feeling the power in the blade, the power in her new body. She turned and opened the razor.
The man screamed as best as he could. He bucked and bounced in the chair, the legs coming off the ground. Finally, he tipped. His eyes flashed with panic as he felt himself go over. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling.
“You like to hurt people?” Talia asked. Her rage was building; the blade was calling, but something deeper in her was growing.
The man shook his head, trying to deny his inner sins.
“Oh,” Talia said, putting the blade to her lips, tapping herself. “You don’t?”
Again, he furiously shook his head, dirty hair leaving streaks in the earthen floor.
Talia squatted down between his legs and ran her hand up his thigh. The man’s cock was small and flaccid, hiding in fear. Normally, a beautiful woman would’ve had him fully erect, but not her.
He could feel her too. Could feel the monster she’d become.
Talia grabbed the top of his filth-crusted jeans, feeling the leftover fluids from him and his victims. She ripped, pulling the front of his pants off.
He started crying, more snot running from his nose. The cold air of the basement further shriveled his dick.
“You like to rape?” Talia asked, her hand touching his manhood.
He shivered; her touch was powder dry and cool. Furiously, he shook his head, his neck straining to look up at her from the ground.
“Oh, I think you do,” She squeezed his filthy balls. The grime crunched in her hand like a layer of crusted bread. She pulled at the base of his cock and balls, getting the skin taught.
She knew what she was going to do to him and loved it. This wasn’t an innocent man; this was a predator and piece of human shit. The world would be better without him. A hunger grew in her, gnawing at her belly like a new life form.
He writhed, screaming as she lowered the razor to the tangle of his greasy pubic hair. Crabs skittered away from the descending blade.
Talia pushed, feeling his skin yield to the razor.
He screamed, his face turned red, snot and tears ran free.
She looked at him, into his eyes, feeling the pain he’d inflicted and sliced. A spurt of blood hit her legs as his manhood came off in her hand. She threw the lump of flesh and hair over her shoulder. Absently, she heard the dog eating it.
Eating.
Eating.
She was hungry. The gnawing in her reached new levels. Almost painful. She straddled the man, grabbing a handful of his hair. She fucking hated him and wanted him to suffer, but hunger overtook her, winning out. She pulled his head back, nearly breaking his neck. A bulbous Adam’s apple stared at her. With a swipe, she slit his throat.
Talia dropped him and stood.
He writhed, thrashing, fighting for breath that would never come. Blood gurgled in his windpipe. It spat, and ran, coating the ground around him.
The blood called to her. His shit, which poked out from his dirty ass, called to her. His churning gut, called to her.
Something shifted. Something visceral. She lifted the razor to her face, looking at her reflection on the bloody blade. Her eyes, like the man and dog’s, were red. Bright red, like arterial blood. She put the blade to her mouth. Her tongue stuck out, tasting the air around the razor. She licked it, starting at the base as if it were a cock. The blade parted flesh, which healed painlessly. The blood was intoxicating, filling her with power and rage…and hunger. She dropped the blade, letting it clatter to the ground. Her body was changing.
Talia looked at her dainty hands. The small bones shifted, thickening and lengthening. Her fingernails hardened and came to black points. A pressure pushed on her skull as her jaw lengthened and rows of pointed teeth sprung anew. Black fur, stinking and feral, sprouted in patches on her pale skin.
Talia fell on the man, who was nearing death at a rapid pace. Her claws ripped into his belly, tearing skin and clothing with ease. She lowered her long mouth down, biting. It didn’t matter what it was, it was all heavenly. Blood, shit and bile filled her demonic maw and she ripped and ate.
She saw red, a blur of vengeance and death. Mid-chew, she looked up. The dog was across from her, eating. She smiled, feeling odd with her new mouth, but welcomed the kindred beast.
The tall man watched his monsters feed, eyes burning red and smiled in the darkness.
