Unnatural Instinct: Transform

12.

This isn't going to plan.

Time slows. The blue sky above and the green grass below blend together in a streak. You've left your stomach somewhere far behind. The last day's events flash before your eyes.

You're going to die, practically naked and lost in a strange land where your family and friends will never find you. They'll never know what happened to you, and you suddenly think to yourself that you would much rather be a monster than that.

At least you'd be alive.

Then it all stops. Your stomach flips back into position. The green and blue separate. The world rights itself. Dizzily, you gaze into the dark eyes of the dark winged man, his arm braced against your back as he yanks you back through the window. Everything's so quick and confusing you don't know how he's done it.

He tries to guide you back through the room but your legs are like jelly after your close call and he lifts you into his arms instead. In a daze you stare up at the ceiling. You don't realise you're weeping until you taste the salt of your tears on your lips. Your heart is beating so hard it's thudding through your body like a drum.

He rests you on the bed and you don't stop him; after all, there are worse things than this.

Much worse things.

The three men gather around. You feel a tug as one of them pulls off the sheet that you've tied around you. At this point, you don't feel vulnerable or defeated, only grateful to be alive.

Then you smell it. You smell him. And that need to fight slowly awakens again.

'No,' you murmur.

The smell becomes overpowering as they lather the lotion over your legs. The mattress sinks as one of the men kneels in the bed to access your arms and breasts.

'No,' you repeat more loudly. 'Stop.'

Feeling more yourself, you swipe out with your nails at the dark one leaning over you, but he dodges you and catches your wrist. Catching your other one, he pins you down, allowing the others to finish the job.

You stink of him. The room stinks of him. He seems to permeate everything. Like the last time, they massage the lotion into your scalp, smooth it over your shoulders and rub it into your nipples. Again, they focus in particular between your legs. One of them opens you up and slips his fingers inside you, where he rubs the lotion in a circular motion along the walls of your channel.

'Let go!' you scream, twisting and turning and thrashing.

They lather it over your hips and thighs, even in your belly button, before turning you over to do your back and buttocks.

All up it takes probably no more than fifteen minutes. Finally, they're done and they all pull back. With a cry, you twist over and kick out at one of them. You miss but manage to knock the vial out of the blonde's hands. It smashes on the floor.

'Get out! Get out! Get out!' you scream. Your fear is utterly gone now. Your near death experience feels like an eternity ago. You feel hot. You feel energised. Your moistened skin tingles strangely.

Leaping from the bed, you fist your hands at your sides. Never before have you experienced the urge to hurt someone so badly. Never before have you experienced an anger so extreme that you could imagine yourself 'clawing someone's eyes out'.

You can imagine it now.

This is not like you. This is not like you at all.

'How dare you touch me!'

You fly across the room at the blonde. All he has time to do is lift out his wings, again defending the door. He doesn't stop you when you punch him in the chest. He does even less when you kick him in the shin, though a look of pain flashes across his face.

Seizing your upper arms, he spins you around, then enfolds you in a tight embrace. You can feel his breath on your neck. Again, it reminds you of your dream and you feel both disgust and exhilaration tighten a knot in your stomach.

'Good,' he says to the others as you pant uselessly in his arms.

'Our master will be pleased,' the dark one adds.

'Her transformation is getting stronger,' the third says.

'Soon, she will be his.'

'Stop talking about me like I'm not here!' With a strength that surprises you, you wrench from his arms.

Startled, the blonde steps back. Does he look a little fearful? You could almost laugh; you're half his size.

Baring your teeth, you glare at them all, locking your eyes on them one by one. Your tingling skin makes you feel electrified. Slowly, they back away.

Standing with your legs apart, your fists clenched at your sides and your teeth gritted until your jaw aches, you watch as they open the door and retreat. Even when the door slams shut you don't move for several minutes. You look around the room with strangely sore eyes. You look down at the broken vial, then quickly away again at the sharp reflection of light.

You glance back at the windows with a wince. Quickly, you march over and shut the curtains, ripping them hard across their rollers. Despite how big and heavy they are, it's a much simpler thing than before.

The next thing you do is grab up your sheet and try your best to wipe off the lotion. It doesn't work. All you do is rub it in deeper. The smell! Clawing your fingers in your hair, you pace the room, muttering to yourself. Despite the darkness of the room your eyes still feel sore. You must be getting tired.

You stop at the sound of a crunch and look down. You've stepped right into the smashed vial. You lift your foot and see bits of broken crystal sticking out of your sole. Strangely, it only hurts a little. And more strangely, you're hardly bleeding. You remember stepping on the glass of a smashed beer bottle as a child once. You cried for hours.

And the blood ...

Hopping over to the couch, you sit down and gently pull the pieces out. You smooth your hand over your foot. Only a slight sting. Only a little more blood. Instead of making you relieved, it fills you with dread.

Something is definitely happening to you.

You drop your foot and stand. Dizzy, you grab onto the couch to steady yourself. You rub at your eyes then yawn. Why are you so tired?

Staggering over to the bed, you collapse into it.