I exist across all of creation, a terror and longing both in the minds of man. I am formless and yet every form, shaped by the world around me. I manifest wherever and whenever I choose, unbound by the rules of reality. I am unstoppable and inescapable.
---GRACE---
When I slipped through cracks in the 'verse and onto Korshaa it was a sultry night barely disturbed by the weak sea breeze. Smugglers and pirates riotously celebrated life together on the shadow-port's streets, nearly drowning out the dull roar of overhead shuttle engines. One soul among these joyous multitudes called out to me, desiring the ultimate end of her essence, and I ghosted through the partying crowds as I hunted for her.
It took little effort to create a body as I drifted through a short alley, emerging on the other side as a strikingly bronzed Cacusi male. My appearance sent a stir through those who saw me, not just because the humanity of this chaotic age was overwhelmingly female, and groups parted when I approached, hardened bandits even nervously touching weapons. I towered over all of them, my shamelessly nude form old Olympian in proportion, and every move I made hinted at a barely-concealed potential for carnage.
With a deep breath I tasted the air, the scents of intrigue and apprehension mingling around me. A particular smell became apparent and after taking a moment to keep it in mind I set off, whispers racing ahead through the packed streets. My nose led me to an open-fronted tavern, a small crowd already waiting for me. All were dressed down for the heat, with plenty of luscious skin of all shades on open display, but my gaze was drawn to one single woman.
The pirate was clad in just high boots, a flimsy miniskirt and a bandeau around her chest. What set her apart from the beauties around her were the scores of miniature skulls tattooed down her left arm, the practice descended from ancient traditions aircraft pilots used to count their kills. A holstered pistol rested low on each curved hip, the rounded tip of a knife handle just peeking up above the top of each boot.
A name came to me as the olive-skinned woman shifted under the weight of my stare, Grace, and I found it fitting as Grace possessed a lithe dancer's physique. Well-toned thighs occupied the space between boot and miniskirt, a flat defined stomach rose above the miniskirt's waistline and her bandeau struggled to contain nicely-formed breasts. When I took a step towards her Grace was the only one to stand her ground, a cocky smirk on her face, and there was no doubt remaining that her soul was the one calling to me.
Eyes fixed on Grace I suddenly reached out for a woman inching forward and away from the others around me. She wore a triumphant grin as she glanced behind her, completing whatever challenge had been set, before letting out a shocked cry when I yanked her off her feet. The snared woman struggled mightily to pry my tightening fingers from around her throat but Cacusi were delibrately bred to be of primordial design, before the discovery of any tool beyond flesh and bone, my strength far greater than she laid claim to. She switched then to desperate gyration, hoping to be nuisance enough that I let her go, but I was still focused only on Grace.
From the moment I had grabbed my unwilling assistant Grace had been enraptured, a hand drifting up to lightly curl around her own slender neck and lips parting in arousal. This was the fate Grace wanted, to believe yourself invincible and then have that illusion shattered. An ugly pop could be heard as my hand finally clenched shut, the woman in my grasp starting a new round of frenzied squirms while uselessly gasping for air, and I let her carelessly fall when I took a step closer to Grace.
"Your turn. It is why I'm here."
My words came out level, a statement, but Grace just smirked as she elegantly bowed, retrieving one of her knives and expertly brandishing it.
"Take it from me."
The crowds around us were still, no-one even moving to help the strangled woman as she expired with a rattle, and the rest of the shadow-port seemed to be on another planet.
With a swift lunge I closed the distance between us as a Cacusi would but Grace had obviously faced them before, hunkering down to avoid my outstretched arms. Savagely I bought up a knee, willing its cap to grow a lengthy spike. The pointed bone sank deep into Grace's belly, perfectly destroying her navel, and the breath was forced from the pirate with a bark as a rivulet of blood began making its way from the wound. I withdrew and Grace staggered back a pace, dropping onto her round ass with eyes wide and uncomprehending.
"I expected more of a challenge."
The taunt had Grace shakily climbing to her feet, a snarl on her vibrant lips, and she leapt at me, a rousing cheer breaking out from the women she'd been standing with. The pirate was injured though and already heat-weary, a sheen of sweat coating her flesh, and I casually side-stepped her charge, turning an arm into a lance-head before shoving it into her back.
The tip burst out between Grace's breasts, splitting the bandeau and revealing what little the garment had covered. She spat out a gout of blood, thick crimson streams joining the earlier seepage in staining the fabric of her miniskirt, and slumped to her knees when I again withdrew. Painfully Grace rolled onto her side, glancing up at me as I loomed over her. She had been in my position dozens of times, staring down at a vanquished foe, but her soul was content as her fantasy was fulfilled.
I plucked Grace from the ground, holding her limp form tenderly against my chest, and felt her quivering as I resolutely strode away from the tavern, brushing aside everyone in my path. She let out a quiet sob when the end came upon her, only I there to mark it, and I carried the corpse into a blind alley, sitting Grace against a wall just beyond the reach of the streetlights, before pulling open reality.
---KARLI---
Mists swirled around the base of the medieval church, the air on the moorland constantly cold enough to make even a devil have rosy cheeks. I was posing as a grotesque, a stylized rampant griffin, on its bell-tower and my perch gave me a perfect vantage point from which to see anyone sneaking to the neglected building.
A pair, having come from the nearby village, were doing so during my third night on the bell-tower, climbing over the boundary wall and hurrying between overgrown graves. Both were in their late teens, just past the cusp of being adult, and from the way they kissed on the porch clearly no strangers. I waited until they'd entered the church before descending, testing the masonry beneath each paw. Parts of the roof had rotted through and I lurked at the edge of one such hole, looking down into the nave. Using a portable heater and lantern retrieved from their backpacks the pair below had countered the low temperature, shedding their coats and spreading them on the flagstones.
Under their outer layers the boy wore a long-sleeved t-shirt, the fading image of a car sewn on its front, and muddied jeans while his female companion was dressed in a tight white blouse and dark trousers. After a toss of her head the girl's auburn hair, arranged into a ponytail, lay until halfway down her back. The oft-practiced movement for her signalled a desire for attention and the boy responded as she expected, glancing up from establishing more of their little site.
I learned then her name, Karli, and his, Steve, as they conversed. They both worked in the village, in family-run businesses, but while he was happy Karli wanted to spread her wings and leave, to be famous. Turning I surveyed the little village, after a moment sympathizing with the girl and knowing her dream was impossible without help. What I sensed was a rare genuine laugh could be heard from below me and I went back to watching the couple, finding that Steve was sitting behind Karli and enticing her from her clothing.
No bra was beneath her blouse, her exposed breasts teardrop-shaped. Holding herself straighter Karli let out a gentle moan as Steve toyed with her nipples, tipping her head back to rest it on Steve's shoulder. She squealed when he instead pushed her onto her hands and knees, fumbling first with the fly of his jeans and then hers. After some wriggling Karli's trousers were off, her lace undergarments moved aside and the pair were engaged in the fevered copulation of young love.
It was when Steve groaned out his climax, after Karli had given voice to her own pleasure, that I struck, dropping through the hole in the roof and transforming my limbs. A rock, looking identical to a clenched human fist, was thrust forward at speed to crush Steve's facial features, the boy jerking spasmodically as his fatally-damaged brain misfired, and I hauled Karli away from the corpse, angling her head so I could look into her terrified eyes.
"You want to be famous and so you will be."
With a beat of stone wings I rose from the church, flying up into the sky with Karli in my rough grip.
She pressed herself against my chest, breasts squishing against cold stone, and had her eyes tightly closed, shivering now that her virtually-nude body was far from any heat source. I briefly considered becoming a creature of warm flesh and bone but the end of her life of disappointments was fast approaching, any kindness a waste and a cruelty.
At the center of the village was a clock-tower, built to imitate the church bell-tower. A spire was its peak and this was my destination, Karli's final resting place. I landed on the spire, for a second scrabbling for purchase on the stone, and laid Karli against the spire, urging her with honeyed words to open her eyes. As I stared into her teary blue orbs, seeing my own avian head reflected, it cost me nothing to make my fingers into metal nails, the terror in Karli's eyes growing when I showed them to her.
With careful precision I nailed Karli to the clock-tower spire, almost directly opposite her family's cafe where only a few hours before she had been waitressing. She passed out during the insertion of the first nail, keeping the village ignorant, but after I returned to my perch she had stirred again. I kept a vigil, watching the pale squirming bird I'd made her into as she froze, until long after she died. She would be in the news for weeks, as famous among the locals as any celebrity. Just as she wanted.
---ALCHASE---
The Grand Palace on the planetoid colony of Forix was a monument to just one person. Built using the labour of slaves the palace spanned acres, lush pleasure gardens and artificial lakes nestled within thick walls. I glided along a shaded path in the north-west quarter, a silken robe that fell to mid-thigh wrapped tightly around my petite feminine body. The dull thumps of distant cannon could be heard, another rebellion against Forix's tyrannical ruler being suppressed, and I mimicked the reactions of other servants, shying away from the low-pitched noises.
Eventually I entered a large ballroom, the outside world shut out by the closing doors. The cream of Forixian 'nobility' swirled around each other, caught up in stately dances, and their self-styled queen stood above it all on a balcony. The woman's skin was the colour of mahogany, alluringly displayed by the one-shouldered dress she wore, while platinum-blonde hair flowed like a cloak. I had no more time to observe though as another servant, like me olive-skinned and possessing features hinting at a stubborn Asiatic heritage, swiftly appeared at my side, pulling me aside and whispering urgently in my ear.
After a whistle-stop tour of the attached kitchen I was back in the ballroom, a tray loaded up with drinks in hand and eyes submissively cast downward. The nobles spoke over me as I circulated the room, oblivious to my true nature, but then the talking petered out, everyone's attention drawn to the queen when she descended. Alchase ben Halden. Her sheer presence was as arresting as her appearance and like the speech all movement had ceased by the time she reached the center of the ballroom.
Slowly turning the queen's gaze seemed to take in everything and after a single revolution she stopped. A smile was on her face, the pupils of her eyes wide.
"The rebellion has been crushed. My troops will return you to your towers in peace." Polite applause filled the ballroom and Alchase glanced at me as the closest servant. "Follow."
I trailed behind as other servants escorted the nobles from the ballroom, my eyes on Alchase's lean calves while she led me to her inner-most chamber. One corner was inhabited by a security desk with a dozen monitors, most showing identical-looking soldiers disembarking from assault craft, but the rest of the space was dominated by a large bed.
Shimmying out of her dress Alchase flopped onto the bed, lazily waving an arm in my direction.
"Attend to me. My realm is at peace and I wish to be the same."
I eyed the smooth skin of her back for a moment before shrugging off my robe, letting it gather at my feet, and then climbed onto the bed, straddling Alchase at the knee. With hands more sensitive than any human's I worked at removing the tension, kneading the muscles of her shoulders until she let out a relaxed moan.
At that point I was hunched over the queen and my features started softening upon hearing the moan, from the tip of my crown to my toes becoming jelly-like. I let gravity take hold, my now-gelatinous body splashing against Alchase and swiftly drenching her. With an angry splutter she tried to rise, struggling as I held fast her limbs, and her eyes widened when I reformed my head precisely to fit around hers. The rest of my form enveloped Alchase's exposed body like a transparent cocoon, already little wisps of crimson drifting from within my captive.
The queen experienced probably the best massage ever known, every inch of her manipulated by my million villi, until her flesh eventually turned to a mush that easily fell off the bone. Her eyes had been among the first organs to melt, provoking a short-lived attempt to thrash about, and her dissolving brain flowed out through her mouth, steadily absorbed into my now-pinkish mass. The rest of her body disappeared at roughly the same pace, leaving a clean skeleton behind, and when I digested the last morsel I backed away, returning to being the servant who'd entered the room.
Alchase's remains lay on the bed, gleaming white, and I glanced at the monitors, noting the one I'd seen earlier. Nude men, each a clone, strode into coffin-like tubes, closing their eyes as a powerful acid was pumped into the tubes. Alchase's fate was the same as theirs, rendered into bones and thus completely at peace.
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