Planet 3-N81: Nevermore

Chapter Four: Vessel

Tristram awoke, shivering; he was drenched in a cold sweat, and his entire body was in pain.

What had happened?

Unlike before, it was dark. The roots embedded in the antechamber hummed with a barely visible glow, but Tristram could still feel the warmth they emitted.

His limbs felt heavy and numb--he could hardly turn over. He felt so stiff.

Poison, or some kind of drug was still in his system.

Telling from his condition, Tristram was pretty sure he would be unable to walk, but he still tried to get to his knees anyway.

He felt something cool and wet slide across his forehead, and then he remembered--everything.

He jerked away from it, grimacing in pain as his body fell against the warm nest like a boneless worm. He was too weak and numb to move again.

How do you feel, sweet one? Asked the voice.

"I-I don't know...I can't move. I feel weak..." Tristram bit back tears as he felt overwhelmed again, "What did you do to me?"

Tristram wondered why he was freely speaking to the alien as if it hadn't just violated him a few hours before.

He must've been in shock...or maybe he was losing his mind...

He blinked a few times, trying to make out his surroundings amidst the brightening glow of the embedded roots around him, but he couldn't make out the creature anywhere.

He could hear it moving though, curling over towards him-- could feel its body heat, smell its sweet musky skin.

But he couldn't see it.

That's what scared him the most.

Tristram shuddered as his mind recollected all the things it had done to him before, how it seemed to have taken pleasure in his struggling and completely dominated him, and that thing it had put inside of him...

His heart hammered in his chest, skin prickling, waiting for it to touch him again--to force itself--Tristram shut his eyes tightly. He felt sick just thinking about it.

Seconds passed...minutes...maybe hours, Tristram couldn't tell, but the alien didn't make another sound indicating it was approaching him.

Not yet, anyway.

Tristram strained to move his head, but he didn't have the energy to do even that. He could feel the tears spilling from his eyes now. He was entirely at this xenian's mercy--something it had neglected to show the last time. It would probably kill him when it got bored of him. He needed to get out of here somehow.

He was so scared; all he wanted was to go home.

A soothing aroma filled his senses at that moment, relaxing him a bit, calming him enough to keep him still, and ceasing his struggles to move about.

He exhaled softly, trembling from the aching feeling of a sudden cold draft, his eyes fluttering tiredly before he fell back asleep.

The creature drew closer in his unconsciousness.

The alien examined the black and blue bruises formed all across the human's neck and body; they weren't severe, but it reminded itself that it had to be very careful. While this one may have survived the initial phases of change, humans broke very easily.

The boy was shivering, his skin drenched in a cold sweat, yet, he was very hot. It figured this must have been its new vessel's immune response.

While the human may already have been born with an adaptive gene, their body still saw its own as foreign bodies. If the boy's body fought too hard against the process, he would end up dying.

It couldn't have that.

The only thing it could do now was make the boy's body compliant and comfortable, to fool his human body into willingly submitting to the change. The process would complete itself in its own time without any interruptions.

The boy's lips parted easily against its tentacle as it wriggled its way in slowly and down his throat.

It released some more of its sedative to relax and ease the vessel's pain and then released a torrent of aphrodisiacs and pheromones down his throat, the liquid that the boy would soon learn to crave, amongst many other things.

The human let out a deep hum of pleasure and appreciation, its muscles relaxing and its lips unconsciously wrapping around the alien's thick appendage, suckling like a newborn drinking its mother's milk.

The human shuddered subconsciously whenever it ran its tendrils against his body, but the boy didn't awaken for a while.

Over time his contusions healed, the soreness and pain dissipated, and the boy slept.

The alien was patient, though, and generous with its sustenance, ensuring the sweet liquid was dripped down the human's throat multiple times a day.

It does this throughout the passing days and weeks until the human's mouth began to open instinctively for the muscled tendril when it teased at his lips with drops of its special nectar, his body learning to snuggle against the pulsing warmth of the alien's tentacles that wrapped securely around his shivering frame.

Yes, the process would change him slowly and smoothly.

It would soon have its perfect vessel.