Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Midori And The Bloodlust Blues ❯ 1st Night ( Chapter 1 )

MIDORI AND THE

BLOODLUST BLUES:

1st Night

 

 

By Hardcover

 

 

“Hello, darkness, my old friend.

It's good to see you once again.”

--The Sound Of Silence

 

 

It was hot, humid, grey, and overcast on the day the world changed forever. The slightly southern town of Burning City, one of many small urban communities that dotted the midsection of Niperica, was located in a thickly forested region in the state of Sappraska, some hundred miles south of the Urusei Mountains. Surrounded on all sides by thick untamed forests, the only way in and out of the minor metropolis was a snaking twisting road that led out of town and across the mighty Sasami River. Burning was a medium sized city, a far cry from the small towns seen in many films, but a long way from being Yew Nork. It was one of those small mesas that thrived on the spring to summer tourist trade, helped along by the enormous Lake Kawamori, and the annual Anime Gras Festival, a wild drunken party similar to the old Mardi Gras that used to occur in America, except with an animation theme and an enormous amount of cosplay. It was not, to be sure, a one road rural hick town, but rather a sizable city featuring all the shopping malls and movie theaters and homes and apartment buildings that one would expect of a city of any reasonable size. Unfortunately, during the winter off season, Burning practically shrunk in size as the weather turned moist and humid. For that matter, rainstorms in the area could last for months on end, and usually overflowed the river, effectively cutting off Burning from the rest of the world. Its full time inhabitants, however, had learned to deal with it.

 

Burning was a wide spaced city with its fair share of tall buildings. Situated as it was next to the Sasami River, an inlet from the river called the Sasami Kawaii ran directly through the city, splitting in two briefly at the center before reforming and running off into the forest. The path of the Sasami Kawaii effectively cut the city into two parts, an outer part and an inner part. During the storm months, the outer section was basically shut and locked down, while the full time population remained in the inner section, in between the two forks of the Sasami Kawaii.

 

As it was, that particularly unpleasant season was almost upon Burning City. And it was in this small and isolated little community that eighteen year old Midori Ichise drove her used Saab down the street on her way to work. The car made fast time as the intake screen on the front sucked air into the engine, where the machine separated hydrogen from the air and fueled the car. Midori could only imagine what it must have been like back in the old days to have to fill you car up with expensive fossil fuels every so often to keep it running.

 

Midori was a pretty Japanese girl with a roundish face and small, cutesy nose. She left her hair its natural black color and almost never wore make up. Her hair was medium length and she kept it tied high on either side. She wore large round glasses over her big green eyes. She had a curvy figure and much larger breasts then the average Japanese girl, a fact which she was terribly self conscious of. She usually dressed in baggier clothes to conceal her figure, unhappy with being starred at all the time, demure shyness being a common trait in her family.

 

Midori was studying criminal law as a major at the Burning City Community College with hopes of one day transferring to the bigger Akane Sappraska State University on the other side of town. She had no scholarship, so she needed to work nights. The closest thing she could get to something that matched with her major was a job with the Burning City Sheriff's Department. Midori had started as a clerk, but lately had been used to take care of some of the responsibilities that the small police force didn't want to be bothered with. She'd been duly deputized, but she didn't carry a gun, or even handcuffs. She was given a baton, but it was more for show then anything else. She even wore a badge, though she really wasn't allowed to make an arrest. She was mainly responsible for citing people for minor violations, all the boring crap that the seasoned cops didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. In short, she was an underpaid meter maid.

 

She was also on the dreaded “graveyard shift”, that grueling twelve o'clock midnight to eight thirty in the morning run that most people avoided like the plague if they could help it. Midori, however, liked the hours. She liked the peace and quiet, and comforting silence of the shadows.

 

From where she was, Midori could see the darkened silhouette of the building in the outer section. Dormant now, locked down and quiet without a light on anywhere, they looked to her like foreboding black monoliths against darkened starless sky. In a way, like giant tombstones marking the graves of ancient god like beings. The deserted outer section always creeped her out this time of year, somewhat domineering in its emptiness, it sometimes resembled a great dead metropolis, the ruins of some civilization that had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

 

Officer Yamada, the precinct's resident horror buff, often compared the deserted outer section during the winter's month to a novel by Richard Matheson called `I Am Legend'. He'd tried unsuccessfully to get Midori to read it, but Midori scared to easy and wouldn't bite, if you'll forgive the pun. Something about a world full of vampires, the whole idea sounded silly to Midori.

 

She arched her car into the parking lot and noticed a lot more cars out front then usual. That could only mean one thing: something rather large had gone down and everyone was still here dealing with it. So much for a quiet night by herself, she paused a bit before getting out of her car.

 

She was dressed in her work uniform, which was standard issue, and which she absolutely hated. It was designed with the local climate in mind. Since Burning City was close to the equator, it was warm even during winter and ever at night, and during winter tended to be astonishingly humid. The female uniform consisted of a navy blue button down short sleeve top that was a half top and left her midriff bare. There were cuffs at the sleeves and the top didn't button across her breasts very well, forcing her to leave the upper buttons undone, showing way more cleavage then she was comfortable with. The bottom part was a pair of navy blue shorts that cuffed at the bottom. They were, like the top, way shorter then Midori would have liked. A large black cop's utility belt ran across the top. She wore thick black knee high boots on her feet, made with trudging through flood water in mind. Not only did the whole thing show way too much skin for Midori's comfort, but all the uniforms she'd been issued seemed to be a few sizes too small, which she was sure was deliberate. She'd tried to complain, but all the female cops wore the exact same uniform and it never seemed to bother them. So, Midori had gritted her teeth and endured it, constantly self conscious of all the eyes on her whenever she was out in public wearing it. It was quite often that she would walk down the street telling herself under her breath, “Calm down. Calm down. You're not naked, it just feels that way.”

 

Midori got out of her car and started towards the station. Wind pressed against her face, and she could hear it howling through the trees in the distance, like some kind of sad lonely spirit, bemoaning an unrequited love. She paused and looked up at the sky. No stars, the sky was completely covered with dark black clouds. Midori could feel more moisture in the air then usual. The storms were almost upon them. Give it a day or so and they would be completely flooded in. Not the Midori really minded all that much, she had always adored the sound of rain and thunder, and it stirred her imagination and made her feel just a little bit dreamy and unreal, a pleasant sensation almost like getting high on something.

 

Midori pulled her cell phone out and hit the speed dial for the office receptionist. Might as well find out what's going on before she got in there. She frowned: No signal. Not a single bar. She checked the battery and found it was fully charged. Fantastic. She put the phone away with a sigh.

 

She approached the police station. The grey three story building loomed up in front of her. She always found it a little bit creepy. The station was old. Really old, apparently it had used to in some other country but was transported to Niperica some time after its founding. It was constructed of dull grey cement, and had an old fashioned gothic architecture about it. All it needed, really, were a few gargoyles and the place would make a great mausoleum. A half circle of cement steps led up to a large concrete arch over which the words “Police Station” were carved in an old fashioned roman like script. Large oak wooden double doors led into the station itself.

 

Midori pushed through the large doors and entered the station, passing through the metal detectors and x-ray scans. She entered the long front office which looked more like an old fashioned bank then a police station proper. She saw her friend Natalie still at one of the desks, working late as usual. Natalie was a young black women a year older then Midori at nineteen. She had long strait hair that went wavy at the ends which she kept pulled back in a pony tail. She wore large round wire frame glasses and very small ring earrings. She was dressed in short sleeved loose button down white shirt and a knee length tan skirt. She was gathering up her papers as Midori entered.

 

Natalie looked up and smiled at her, “Hi, Midori.”

 

The smile seemed a little forced. She spoke perfect Japanese which was the national language of Niperica. Midori was still unclear on how that had come about, but that was what they spoke here, albeit with a recognizable Niperican accent, that differed form the way the language was spoken in Japan.

 

“Hi, Natalie.” Midori waved pleasantly, “What's all the fuss about? I tried to call you before and find out, but I guess my phone's dead.”

 

Natalie shook her head, “It's not your phone. The cell tower's out. Completely shut down. Nobody's phone works.”

 

“Oh wonderful.” Midori made a face. Not having a cell phone was like loosing a friend to her, “So what's all the commotion?”

 

Natalie slipped her purse on and came up to her, “I don't know. They just brought in someone. Guess it was pretty serious. They've got whoever it is in holding. I gotta get going before the rain starts. See ya'.”

 

Natalie scooted out the door, barely giving Midori a chance to wave goodbye. She disappeared out the door and was at the bottom of the steps before the doors closed all the way. Midori was now feeling more uneasy. Natalie loved to small talk, but she'd raced out of here like her life had depended on it. What the heck had spooked her so much? And not just Natalie: Midori felt an eerie oppressiveness to the office that hadn't been there before. Somehow, it all seemed just a little bit . . . wrong.

 

Midori headed further into the office and found Officer Ken Yamada waiting for her in the back. He was a large man without being too muscular, and kept his black hair in a tight military style flat top. He was one of those cops who looked like he spent just as much time making sure he looked cool as he did catching crooks. He was dressed in the standard Burning City Police Officer Uniform, the male version. The bottoms were the same cuffed shorts, more or less, that the women wore. But the top was a regular blue short sleeved shirt that tucked in at the waist. No bare midriff for the guys. Midori had attempted to complain, but none of the female officers would back her up, apparently liking the extra skin they got to show. Midori needed this job badly, so she hadn't pushed it. Yamada stood up as she approached.

 

“Ichise.” He said briskly, “The Sheriff wants to see you.”

 

“Hello to you too, Yamada.” Midori said, “What's the chief want?”

 

“He needs you in holding for an interrogation.” Yamada responded.

 

Midori sighed; one of her occasional duties was taking notes during interrogations of subjects when a court stenographer couldn't be found. It was easily the job she liked the least, some of these seedy characters made her want to bathe for a week. Unenthusiastically, she grabbed a paper and a pen and followed Yamada towards the holding cells.

 

“What's going on that's got everyone here so late?” She asked him.

 

There was a long pause before he responded, “Units showed up to a report of shots fired at Kaneda Meat Packing. When we got there, we found the door had been forced and there was no sign of the overnight staff. When we searched the premises, we found nothing. Not a clue where they'd gone. And then we found one person who didn't work there hiding on top of the stock shelves, who attacked us instantly. And I mean attacked: Guttenberg is in the hospital with broken bones, Barrow is getting stitches, it was vicious. We were hitting her with billyclubs and tasers, and she took forever to go down. We dragged her in here in manacles, ferchrissakes.”

 

Midori looked up at him, “'Her'? The perp is a woman?”

 

Yamada sighed heavily, “At least that much is certain.”

 

Midori stared at him; He looked spooked. Really spooked, and that just wasn't like Yamada. He was way too much of macho man to show emotions; he just bottled them up inside as a rule, apparently saving them for some future nervous breakdown. But today he looked haunted by something.

 

When they entered the holding block, Midori felt it. A harsh chill in the air that made her shiver in spite of the heat. The normally gloomy cell block now felt constrictive and suffocating. All at once Midori felt certain that the last place in the world she wanted to be in this cell block. She would rather have been anywhere else, anywhere else: trapped in a snow storm with several kidney stones, anywhere. She followed Yamada silently down the corridor; she could see two other officers at the last cell: Akira Honda and Giselle Tannerberry. Both were armed with shotguns. Just in front of them stood Sheriff Wayne Brown, an older man in his fifties, Brown was in remarkable shape for his age and had his slightly graying brown hair parted neatly to one side. For years he had worn a thick walrus like mustache, but he'd shaved it recently. He looked at Midori sympathetically.

 

“Hi, Midori.” He said, “Hate to hit you with this so soon. I don't think it's gonna take long, I don't expect this one to do much talking.”

 

Wayne looked into the cell. He sighed, “I don't know about this one. She's got no identification on her, no driver's license, no social security card, nothing. We ran her fingerprints a came up with nothing either, like she didn't ever exist. And she hasn't said a word since we brought her in.”

 

Midori hesitantly moved next to Wayne and looked into the cell in front of her. She shivered at what she saw, despite that it wasn't much. In fact, it wasn't so much what she saw as what she felt, starring at the lone figure in the back of the cell. Like most of the station, the holding cells were old fashioned. There were no electronic locks of any kind, and regular old keys were used to open the bars. Long thick iron bars ran across the front of the cell, looking a bit like the bars from many an old western. The cell ran in a rectangular shape with the shorter side on the front and back of the room. There was one window, in the back, covered with a mesh of iron. The ceiling was high, much higher then in a normal room, and a single electric lamp hung in the center. It bathed the room in a dull yellow light that flickered periodically. The lamp swayed a little, casting shadows about the room. There was a wash basin and toilet on the left hand side, and a simple cot against the back wall in the left hand corner. Aside from that, the cell was empty, except for its occupant.

 

Perhaps it was just Midori's eyes playing tricks on her, but she could swear this particular cell was slightly darker then the others, as if their prisoner had somehow sucked the light out of the room a little at a time. The faucet in the sink had not been tuned off all the way, water dripped out of it in rhythmic drops.

 

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

She looked at the figure in the cell. The girl sat on motionless on the cot in the back, her legs dangling over the edge, her hands folded in her lap. Shadows seemed to hide most of her features, but Midori could tell she was young, scarcely any older then she was, perhaps nineteen or twenty, no more then that. She was short, and had especially long black hair that was tied in two tails high on either side of her head. Her freakishly long hair went down to her knees and probably would have gone down to her ankles if she hadn't tied it up.

 

The girl wore a black gothic like outfit, a tight fitting black strapless top that was cut low at the neck and accented the girl's ample cleavage. A large black belt was around her waist and studded with who looked like silver skulls. She wore a wide ruffled black skirt with black lace at the bottom that spread out in folds and several black petticoats were visible underneath. Long black fishnet stockings ran up her legs and stopped just above the knees, leaving a patch of bare skin between the top and the bottom of the skirt. She wore on her arms long black silk gloves that ran up to her elbows where they were tied off with leather buckles, and had her fingers decorated with multiple rings. On her feet she wore long shin high, high heeled boots that belted up the front with silver latches. The heels were exceptionally high, and Midori wondered how the girl could walk without busting her ankles every step. There was a layer of silver at the tips. A circular necklace of some kind hung around her neck. A leather choker was around her neck from which dangled a metal pendant in the shape of a bat.

 

Her face seemed to be obscured in shadow, almost as if she wasn't ready for them to see it yet.

 

There was a loud creaking sound as Wayne opened the gate and entered the cell, followed timidly by Midori. The other two officers entered behind them and remained in front of the bars, their shotguns trained at the prisoner. Midori clicked her pen and followed Wayne, staring fixedly at the girl. Yamada remained outside the bars. The faucet continued to drip uninterrupted.

 

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

More features of the strange girl were becoming evident. Midori could hear her breathing, and it sounded like a hissing wheeze as it came out in slow deep breaths. As she got closer, she was sure that the air around them got hotter, and damper. She stared at the prisoner, a new chill running up her spine.

 

The girl's skin was a pale white color with a hint of grey about it. The skin seemed to be slightly translucent, and Midori could make out faint spider webs of blue veins underneath the skin. She could see now that girl was still wearing manacles about her wrists and that her feet were chained to the bed. It must have been one hell of an arrest.

 

“What's wrong with her skin?” Midori asked no one in particular. Wayne simply shrugged.

 

“She came up clean for bio toxins.” Was all he said.

 

Wayne stopped just out of reach, and Midori could faintly see her face. She was Caucasian, it seemed, maybe of old European decent. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, she didn't even seem to acknowledge their presence; only that maddening, irregular breathing, and the sound of the water.

 

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

Wayne paused for a long time and then spoke, “Well, you have just caused us a whole lotta trouble, Miss. I've got officers in the hospital and a whole staff of missing meat packers. The only thing you've got going for you is a little bit of leniency on my part. So if you cooperate, and answer all my questions, I might see fit cut you a little slack. Or you can make my job miserable, and then I'll make you whole life miserable. What's it gonna be? Why don't you start by telling us your name?”

 

The prisoner was silent. She gave no indication that she had ever heard Wayne. Again Midori shuddered as the girl stared at the floor, motionless silent; barely discernable from the stone around her except for that puffed metrical breathing.

 

Wayne waited for a minute and then continued.

 

He shook his head, “Well, if that's the way you want it. We've got a long time to do this, nobody is going to be taking you anywhere for a very long time, you've picked the worst possible place at the worst possible time to get arrested.”

 

Midori noticed some movement, right around the face. The girl's lips peeled back and for the first time she spoke: A hissing raspy sound that flowed through the cell, as unnatural and unearthly as the person who spoke it.

 

“Cold be hand and heart and bone. And cold be travelers far from home. They do not see what lies ahead, when stars have faded and moon has fled.” She rasped without moving.

 

Midori blinked, the response made no sense. But the voice had filled her with an all encompassing sense of dread. She had no idea why she feared this person so much. She quickly scribbled down notes.

 

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

Wayne grimaced, irritated, “So that's the way you want to play it? Come on, Lady: Make this easy on yourself. What's your name?”

 

“Se vacuaou smashto orta semeavst qee.” The girl said.

 

Whatever language that was, Midori didn't recognize it. It sounded a little like Russian, but not exactly like it. It sounded strange, almost non human in its construction, punctuated by popping sounds and hisses, and rolling `r' sounds that resembled growls.

 

Wayne twitched in anger, “What happened to those people? What were you doing there?”

 

“Ai gokgshi magoelism oateashli foegotarish mateehem.” The girl replied.

 

“Why did you attack my men? Did you kill those people?” Wayne lost his temper and shouted at her.

 

The girl remained silent, unmoving except for a tightening of her hands. She ignored Wayne's outburst, still staring at that one spot on the floor, the only other change being a quickening of her breathing. Midori became aware that she was sweating a little. All at once, and for no reason she could understand, Midori stepped forward and spoke to the prisoner.

 

Midori spoke in a soft, compassionate voice, “Please, Miss. Won't you at least tell us your name?”

 

The girl's head lifted for the first time. With a slow and deliberate motion, her eyes rotated in Midori's direction. Icy fingers ran down Midori's spine and she visibly cringed. The head followed, turning slowly towards Midori, and into the light. Midori gasped as she saw the features, and looked at the prisoner's face for the first time.

 

The girl was beautiful, that was for sure, possessed of a cute rounded face and a small unobtrusive nose, and coupled by full pouting lips across a small dainty mouth. Midori got the crazy impulse to kiss her as soon as she saw those lips. Like the rest of her the skin on the prisoner's face was pale and grey. Her hair was parted down the middle and fell down over the sides of her head in strands. This close, Midori could see that the ties that the girl bound her hair with were decorated with golf ball sized skulls. Some of her ample amounts of hair hung down near her ears, tied off with small skull shaped ties.

 

Midori noticed her lower lip was pierced in the middle and ornamented with a small blunt spike. Multiple piercing and earrings ran up both ears. There was also a small ring through the left side of her nose, and an elaborate skull and tribal tattoos on her left shoulder.

 

But it was her eyes that stood out. Wide and large, the irises of both eyes were a deep but full red color, the color of blood, and the whites were bloodshot all the way through. Midori felt her heat skip a beat at the sight of those penetrating, unnatural eyes. The girl's lips flickered in the briefest hint of a smile, revealing bright white teeth that clashed with her pale skin. Looking at Midori, the prisoner spoke.

 

“I am Natasha.” The girl said.

 

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

The raspiness and hissing slightly diminished as she switched back to Japanese again. There was a slight hint of a Russian accent to her speech, a slight rolling of the `r' and deepening of the `o' sounds, but otherwise, her command of the language was perfect. Midori's eyes dropped down to Natasha's well exposed cleavage; her breasts were large and full, and seemed to be firm. They were held in place by the top, and Natasha obviously wasn't wearing a bra. Midori suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy, an unwelcome feeling that Natasha actually might have nicer boobs then her. They were, after, quite sexy though Midori didn't want to admit that. She became aware that she had been staring, and quickly brought her eyes back up to Natasha's face, only to realize from her expression that she's been aware of what Midori had been looking at. Midori felt herself blush slightly.

 

Wayne glanced at Midori and then back to Natasha, “Alright, Natasha. Why don't you tell us what you were doing at the meat packing plant?”

 

Natasha didn't answer him. She continued to stare at Midori, looking her up and down. Midori was often self conscious when people looked at her, but Natasha's penetrating stare flat out unnerved her. She felt a crawling sensation in her belly and a bizarre tingling between her legs. Natasha smiled at her again, briefly, exposing rows of teeth that seemed to be a bit odd in their shape.

 

For a split second, Midori thought she saw something move under Natasha's dress.

. . . drip . . . drip . . .

 

“This is your last chance. Answer me, Natasha.” Wayne grumbled.

 

Natasha said nothing. Wayne put his hands on his hips, and fixed her with a disapproving stare. He shook his head in exasperation. He then motioned for everyone else to leave the room. One by one they started to file out.

 

He sighed, “All right, Natasha. If that's the way you want it. You're not going to be going anywhere for a very long time. Feel that dampness in the air? We're almost into our version a monsoon season. When it rains here the river floods and we're cut off from the rest of the world for months at a time.”

 

Wayne started towards the door, “And guess what? There's a storm coming.”

 

He stepped out of the cell and slid the door shut for effect. Natasha regarded him, reacting to him for the first time.

 

Quietly, she said, “You have no idea.”

 

Those words sent a shiver of fear coursing through Midori's body.

 

Midori had figured that it was finally over and she wouldn't have to deal with the bizarre cell occupant anymore that night, later on, it turned out she was wrong. When the station ran on a skeleton crew during the wet season, there were very few people in the building. If someone was in holding, there was always someone posted over night to keep an eye on the prisoner, usually a drunk. Nobody liked to do it, so the job was assigned by a draw. Midori had gotten stuck with it several times; it was the dullest thing you could imagine: Sitting there at the processing desk across from the holding cells, while someone slept, just in case something happened and she needed to call Wayne out of his office. Not the kind of thing they'd usually do during the rest of the year, but they really had no choice at this time.

 

And tonight, to her horror, Midori had gotten the lot. She'd tried to weasel out of it, but she was stuck, as it turned out. And so, several hours later, she sat alone at the processing desk, going over some paperwork, all alone across from Natasha's cell. Wayne, as usual, was in his office and the other overnight cops were on patrol, leaving poor underpaid Midori with what was officially now the creepiest job in the area. As always the room was under-lit, and the shadows filled the corners.

 

The processing desk sat in a wide alcove on the far part of the large hall. There was the desk itself and several file cabinets as well a rack of firearms should they become necessary (as of yet, they never had). Just past the alcove, there nothing but blank wall, except for a small door that led to an undersized bathroom right next to the alcove. Until you reached the door that led into the front office, there was nothing else. On the opposite side of the hall, were the cells themselves. On the alcove short side of the hall, there was a concrete wall, but the entrance side led into a short smaller hall the led to other offices. Both halls were lit by a series of lamps hanging from the ceiling.

 

Fortunately for Midori, Natasha was asleep on the cot. Her manacles had been removed, so Midori had been instructed not to open the cell door for any reason. As if she would. The wind had picked up speed outside and whipped into a dull howl. Aside from that there was only the ubiquitous sound of the air-conditioning (A must this close to the equator), and the slow steady breathing of Natasha.

 

Midori stared at her paperwork, trying to keep her mind off the weird prisoner across from her. She glanced over and looked: Natasha was still lying on the cot, unmoving. She looked back to the tedious forms, finding in them a bit of salvation from the creeping feeling of dread that ran up her spine.

 

Dread and uncertainty: Some of her reactions to Natasha during the interrogation were also weighing heavily on her mind. There was that moment when she had that bizarre urge to kiss her. And there was that other moment where she'd felt herself fascinated by the strange girl's breasts. It bothered Midori; she had never had any sort of lesbian impulses before. In fact, she was still a virgin, she'd never even had sex with her boyfriend, and she'd certainly never engaged in anything odd like that.

 

Midori sighed and then noticed a strange feeling; suddenly, her vagina was starting to tingle, a pleasant stimulating feeling the rose between her legs; like she was getting turned on. It disturbed and puzzled her, and she tried to ignore it, with no success. All at once, she got the feeling that she was being watched. She glanced at the cell and her heart froze: Natasha was sitting up on the cot, staring at Midori. Midori quickly looked away, her skin crawling but her vagina tickly. She stared at the papers not actually reading them, her breathing getting heavier.

 

For a long time, neither of them spoke, there was only the howl of the wind. And then, finally after staring at Midori for a good five minutes, Natasha opened her mouth and began to speak.

 

“Twinkle, twinkle, little bat? How I wonder what you're at?” She said, softly but audibly.

 

It was a quote from something, Midori was sure of that. And yet, Natasha had phrased it like a question. Midori looked back at her papers pretending to ignore the prisoner, wishing against all wishes that she was anywhere but stuck here with this creepy gothic criminal. She's just trying to spook me, Midori thought.

 

And she's doing a good job of it.

 

She squirmed a little in her chair, trying desperately to ignore the fact that in spite of everything, she was starting to get horny. She couldn't help herself; it was like her body knew something that she didn't. There was a long silence as neither one of them said anything. And then, as the uncomfortable silence proceeded, Natasha once again broke the calm.

 

“I think you're very beautiful, Midori.” She said coyly.

 

Midori's heart leapt at the pronouncement. Some part of her became excited at the declaration. It confused her, to be responding like that. At the same time, a chill ran up her spine: How did she know her name? Then she realized that Wayne had called her by name during the interrogation. She relaxed and tried to ignore the remark. She turned back to the paperwork and tried to focus. She also had some of her schoolwork with her in case there was some time, which there more then likely would be, since she'd pulled the dullest job on the beat. At least it would be, without her freakish companion for the night.

 

Natasha spoke again, “You look really sexy in that uniform, the way you fill it out. It suits you nicely. All the boys must be fighting over you.”

 

Again, Midori ignored her, she finished up her paperwork and shoved it aside, picking up one of her law books and pretending to read it, wishing there was a way to just make the prisoner shut up. She could feel those creepy red eyes staring at her from the back of the cell.

 

“And your hair is very cute. I like it. Japanese girls are just so `kawaii'” Natasha added, using the word for `cute' with its proper mainland Japan pronunciation.

 

Midori mutter and low, “Thanks.”

 

There was another long period of silence, where there was no speaking, only the sounds around them as Midori tried desperately to loose the sense of trepidation that chilled her bones. She stared at the page of her book, not reading the words, her eyes unfocused. She had begun to feel a little lightheaded, a bit like she did when she had a little saki, but she hadn't been drinking at all that night since she was on duty. She shifted a little, her uniform suddenly feeling tighter then it usually did. Again, Natasha interrupted her thought.

 

“They're wrong about you, you know?” Natasha asked her in a low voice.

 

Midori bit, “Who is?”

 

“You're bosses, all those police officers. You're not weak. You're not just an inexperienced kid. You've got strength in you, the kind they couldn't possibly understand.”

 

“No, I don't. And I don't want to. I'm just here `cause it was my only job option that had any connection to my major.”

 

“Oh, but you do have it, don't you? You think Sheriff Brown hired you because he's a friend of your father's? That's not true. He hired you because he saw in you then what I see in you now: A passion and thirst, and vigor to persevere. He, as do I, believes that you can achieve mighty things.”

 

There was another long silence, and then Natasha added, “Also he wants to fuck you, but I don't believe it clouds his judgment.”

 

Another shiver ran through Midori: How the hell could Natasha know all that, how could she know anything about her father. She shot the prisoner and angry glare, but didn't feel it was very convincing. She looked back at her book, gripping the pages angrily. Why couldn't she just shut up, she'd barely said a word to Wayne.

 

Natasha continued, “Might and passion: It will serve you well for what's coming.”

 

Midori suddenly became aware of something: Natasha had barely said anything to Wayne, had in fact, virtually ignored him. But she was talking to her. This was actually a bit of an opportunity for her: She could easily score points with the boss and the cops if she got Natasha to tell her things that she wouldn't tell the others. She glanced at the prisoner, who hadn't moved from her seat on the cot. She became aware that all this was a bit of a rationale. She felt drawn towards the figure in the cell, like she could barely control her actions and had to be closer to her. He heart hammered in her chest, partly out of fear, partly out of . . . something else.

 

Midori pulled a small digital voice recorder out of the desk drawer and clipped it to the collar of her top. She got up and slowly approached the cell, peering in at the motionless form. As she did, Natasha changed position, sitting back with her hands behind her, supporting her body. She crossed her legs in font of her. She smiled as Midori approached the bars. She made no move to rise.

 

“Alright, I'll listen.” Midori said with what she hoped sounded like confidence, “What is coming?”

 

“Something you never would have imagined.” Was Natasha's cryptic response.

 

“Try me.” Midori said, giving her a warm smile, hoping it looked right.

 

When Natasha didn't reply, Midori tried a different approach, “So, can't you tell me what happened to those people at the meat packing plant?”

 

Natasha shook her head, “I don't know.”

 

That had to be a lie.

 

“You were the only one there.” Midori said, keeping any accusation out of her voice, “Can't you help us . . . help me out here? You must know something? Please, I really would like to know . . . I had some friends in there.”

 

That was a lie, she hadn't known any of them, and Midori instantly realized that Natasha knew it. The creepy girl grinned a little at her, and then returned to being serious.

 

“That's not true; I wasn't the only one there. Someone had been there before me. If you check the upstairs office room, the window was forced, but the door was locked from the inside. Like some one had locked it on their way out.” Natasha told her.

 

“Who was it?” Midori asked.

 

Natasha was silent.

 

“Who was in there with you?” Midori pressed.

 

Natasha simply shook her head rapidly from side to side, not meeting Midori's gaze.

 

Midori was about to press further when she felt a sudden chill in the warm air and thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye: Something crawling on the floor at the far side of the hall. She turned immediately but saw nothing there. The hall was empty, and as quiet as a tomb. Just like it had been before.

 

And then she heard it, a dull rumbling, almost like a growling sound, faintly audible over the sound of the wind. It seemed to be coming from the end of the hall, where she'd thought she'd seen the figure. As she stared down the hall, she noticed that the lamp at the far end was starting to flicker. The sound became louder, like it was getting closer: like something she couldn't see was moving towards her though the hall.

 

The second lamp began to flicker as the sound moved closer to her. It echoed though the cells and moved slowly closer. The first lamp had begun to sway back and forth. Still Midori could see no source for it. A third lamp began to flicker, the first two swaying like pendulums.

 

Fingers of ice clawed at Midori's skin. Her chest heaved as fear seared in her ribcage. Another lamp began to flicker. The sound moved closer and got louder, that horrible rumbling, like sounds from the belly of some ancient murderous beast of old mythology. Midori wanted to run but her feet wouldn't listen. She sounds moved closer, slowly but subtly approaching her, the lamp just in front of her began to flicker, sending a strobe light effect over her and room around her, casting ghostly shadows on the walls that seemed to twist and move with a will of their own.

 

Midori yelped! She could have sword she'd heard someone hiss her name! She started to back up and the horrid growling seemed to envelope her.

 

And then it was gone. The lights had stopped flickering, and all was as it had been before. Only the slight sway of the lamps held any evidence of what had just occurred. Midori's mind screamed at her, refusing to accept the illogical events that were occurring. Midori felt her lips and hands trembling. She stared down the hall trying to make sense of it.

 

She turned back to the jail cell and screamed in shock: Natasha was standing right in front of her, staring at her through the bars. This close Midori could see in detail her eerie beauty. The freakish red eyes penetrated her, making her feel naked and vulnerable to the odd looking girl. And good god, why hadn't she noticed that before? With Natasha this close she could see her eyes in detail, and realized that the pupils were long thin slits, like those of a cat.

 

Midori's crotch was crawling with sensation and she realized she had gotten wet; positively soaking between her legs. Her chest rose and fell in deep breaths. Her nipples were pushing against her bra. It was like Natasha was exciting her somehow, pushing her into a state of arousal, perverting her in some way without even touching her. Midori's thoughts were becoming muddied, that pleasant drunk feeling expanding through her.

 

Natasha put her hands on the bars and smiled seductively at Midori, “Do you think I'm pretty, Midori?”

 

Without thinking, Midori answered, “Yes, I think you're beautiful.”

 

Midori's skin was becoming warm, her breath deepened and the familiar tingling sensation of arousal spread through her whole body. She licked her lips without realizing it and blushed slightly looking at Natasha. What was wrong with her? It was like Natasha was somehow doing this to her, stimulating her somehow without touching her. She tried to fight it down, but the feeling persisted.

 

And then she saw it again, she was sure she'd seen something move under Natasha's skirt, but couldn't tell what it was. The smile was chilling her; she could see more of the odd shaped teeth now, and they were truly unusual. Her canine teeth were ever so subtly longer then normal. Not by much, but enough to make them noticeable. What was really abnormal was the four front teeth in between them, which were all shaped like regular sized canine teeth, ending in blunt points. This dental deformity was something Midori had never heard of before. She tore her gaze away from them and found herself staring into those sinister eyes again.

 

“Thank you, you're sweet.” Natasha smiled at her, “And your body is so wonderful. Such graceful, sultry curves, and I must say, I love your breasts. They're so cute and sexy, I think they're great.”

 

Midori stammered, “I don't like them.”

 

“Why not?” Natasha looked at her, disappointed, “Lots of human girls . . . lots of girls would kill to have boobs like that. Especially Asian girls. Ever hear of Amy Yip? She made a whole career out of her boobs.”

 

“They're too big. They make people stare at me all the time. I keep feeling like I'm the center of attention.”

 

“What's wrong with that? Life's a lot more fun when you can command the gaze of everyone just by walking into a room. Just being a face in the crowd, never remembered by anyone, that sounds like a nightmare.”

 

“I . . . I'm not like that. I was raised to be modest. To keep all that covered up.”

 

“Oh, but why hide it when you've got so much to share with the world.”

 

Natasha reached through the bars towards Midori. Midori knew she should step back and get out of the way, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Her heart was hammering in her chest again. Natasha's hands reached to her, and Midori realized she was reaching for her breasts.

 

“May I?” Natasha asked.

 

Midori should have batted her hands away. Banged on the bars and gone back to her desk. She did nothing. Her body crawled with arousal. Natasha placed both her hands on Midori's breasts, giving them a slight tender squeeze. Midori let a small cry escape her lips as Natasha felt her up. She'd hardly ever let anyone touch her breasts before. She'd broken up with a couple of guys the first time they tried. But now Natasha had her hands on them, and Midori found she liked the feeling, the way she played with them.

 

“Goodness, but they're lovely.” Natasha said admiringly.

 

Natasha dropped her hands to Midori's waist and gently pulled her towards the bars. Before Midori knew what she was doing, Natasha brought them face to face and kissed her on the mouth through the bars. Midori's body trembled, she felt herself getting hotter. She kissed her back, moving her lips against hers. It felt good, too. More to the point, it felt strangely right, like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be kissing another woman. Deep down she'd often wondered what it would be like, but she'd never dared think about it for more them a moment or two.

 

She felt Natasha's tongue slide into her mouth. She didn't pull away. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, not sure what to do with them.

 

Natasha broke the kiss and looked into her eyes mischievously, “Ah, you're such a good kisser.”

 

Midori mumbled a low “Thank you.”

 

“Don't these bars get in the way, though?” Natasha said, “Wouldn't it be better to be in here with me? Don't worry, I'll be a good girl and won't run away. Why don't you open these bars and come in here?”

 

There was a grinding metal sound, and the cell door unlocked with a loud clack. Midori looked down at the cell lock and saw that it was open, and that the key was in the lock.

 

And her hand was on the key. She'd opened the lock herself without realizing she was doing it. Hell, she hadn't even realized she'd brought the keys with her when she came over to the bars; she had no memory of picking them up. What was gong on with her?

 

Natasha slid the door open and stepped back into the room. Suddenly, Midori was on fire. Her body tingled and burned with arousal and she wanted nothing more then to be in the room, kissing Natasha once again. Her chest heaved as her breathing depend, causing her cleavage to swell. Natasha gestured for her to come in with one finger.

 

“Enter freely, and of your own will.” Natasha whispered, “And leave some of the happiness that you bring with you.”

 

Almost in a trance, and against her screaming better judgment, Midori stepped into the cell and approached Natasha. The back of her mind was shrieking at her to get out and run away, but she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to be close to her, NEEDED to be close to her. She approached Natasha, and the other girl slipped her arms around her, pulling her close.

 

Natasha kissed her again, and Midori kissed her back wrapping her arms around her. Their lips moved against each other and their tongues intertwined with each other like snakes coiling around. Midori could feel the heat of Natasha's body. It was strangely cool and burning at the same time. She kissed her passionately, her resistance shattered. All she wanted to do now was quench the burning thirst that was aching between her legs.

 

Natasha pushed her up against the bars and kissed her deeply. She reached down to the front of Midori's shirt and began to undo the buttons. Midori didn't resist, her breathing deepening, becoming more excited by being stripped by Natasha. Natasha finished the last button and pushed the shirt open, exposing Midori's bra underneath. Midori gave a small smile as Natasha ogled her cleavage with those haunting red eyes. Midori dropped her arms and let the shirt fall off and to the ground. It made a slight clicking noise as her badge hit the floor.

 

Natasha's hands touched Midori's breasts again, squeezing and massaging them. Midori moaned a little, stimulated by the touch. She gave out a gasp as Natasha pulled the cups of her bra down, allowing Midori's nipples to be exposed, they were very hard and erect.

 

Natasha teased them a little with her thumb and forefinger, “So pretty.”

 

Midori gulped and Natasha leaned down and licked one her nipples, gently teasing it with the top of her tongue. Natasha licked at them both and the slipped one between her lips and gave it a suckle. Ambiance coursed through Midori's body and she moaned a little. This felt good, much better then she could have anticipated. She closed her eyes and let the bizarre prisoner suckle her breast, her body moving with awakening.

 

Midori felt Natasha's hand reach behind her and feel around for the clasp on her bra. As soon as she found it, she undid the hooks, and pulled it open. Straitening up, Natasha pulled the bra off of Midori, stripping her topless. Midori offered no resistance, only blushed through her face. Natasha flung the bra away behind her and touched Midori's bare breasts, giving them a little squeeze with her hands.

 

“Mmmm, so soft. And so lovely.” She whispered.

 

“You're the second person who's ever touched them.” Midori admitted quietly.

 

Natasha raised her eyebrows at this but said nothing. She pressed herself close to Midori and kissed her on the lips again. She took one of Midori's hands and guided it to her back, up near the rim of her top in the middle of her back, until it rested on the clasp of the zipper. Natasha stared at her impish, a small thin smile on her face.

 

“Unzip me, please.” She said.

 

In a trance, Midori pulled the zipper down, lowering it across Natasha's back towards the bottom, the zipper making its familiar sound as it moved. Midori reached the bottom and the zipper came free. Natasha stepped back and, smiling seductively, let her top fall away. She lowered it slowly, letting it creep down, exposing flesh a little at a time until it finally sank past her nipples, revealing herself to Midori. She let the top fall away to the floor.

 

An electric jolt of pleasure shot through Midori as she looked at Natasha's exposed breasts. They were large, bigger then Midori's, but firm and high. The skin of them was the same as the rest of her, and her nipples were a dark blue color. Snaking vines of tribal tattoos ran across her left side and partially onto her left breast. A Chinese style dragon adorned her right shoulder which Midori had missed before as it was covered by her hair. More tribal tats encircled Natasha's belly button radiating out. Both of Natasha's nipples were pierced; small round silver rings from which hung tiny silver skulls. Her belly button was also pierced, displaying a small silver ring and a small red jeweled silver spider hanging from it.

 

Natasha took both of Midori's hands and placed them gently on her breasts. Midori shivered at the feeling of the soft skin underneath her hands. They felt warmer then they looked. Almost unconsciously, she played with the nipples. They were hard and erect, responding to her touch. She kissed Natasha again, desire overriding her reason. Again she felt Natasha's hands on her own breast. They kissed and tongued, lost in sensation. Her skin felt alive and electrified; that pleasant tingling extending through her whole body and deep in her chest.

 

Natasha brought Midori's head down, towards her chest, pushing Midori down into a crouch. Gently, with both hands, she brought Midori's face to her breast, pushing her nipple against Midori's lips. Midori opened her mouth and let the nipple and accompanying jewelry slip into her mouth. She licked and sucked on the nipple, teasing it the way hers had been. She reached up with one hand and squeezed Natasha's other breast. Natasha's breathing had gone deeper and she was letting small sounds escape her lips, her eyes closed and her head back.

 

Running her hands through Midori's hair, Natasha let her continue to suckle her like that.

 

After a bit, Natasha pushed Midori into an upright position and kissed her again. She reached down and started undoing Midori's belt, which dropped the floor with a loud clang. Next, she undid the front of Midori's pants, pulling open the snap and drawing down the zipper. Midori looked down; blushing as Natasha slid her shorts down, stripping her to nothing but her boots and her panties. Again, Natasha looked over her body appraisingly.

 

The strange prisoner leaned down and licked at Midori's nipples again. Midori moaned a little bit, one of her hands squeezing her other breast. Natasha's hand ran down her stomach, over her panties. Midori cried out in a shrill high pitched moan as Natasha touched her pussy through the material of her panties. She moaned as vibrations of bliss started to creep through her while Natasha massaged her vagina, separated from it only by the thin material.

 

Natasha rose up and kissed Midori again. This time Midori eagerly returned it. There was not turning back now, she was at Natasha mercy, utterly a slave to her own over stimulated libido. Everyone else in her life faded into a distant memory, and for the time being it seemed like she had no other existence out side of Natasha's sensual touches. Natasha's hand slid over the waistband of Midori's panties and then slipped under them, reaching in and touching her pussy directly. Midori gasped and moaned. Natasha leaned up against her cheek as she masturbated her and whispered into her ear.

 

“You like that, don't you?” Natasha whispered tantalizingly.

 

Midori nodded silently. She couldn't deny it. She loved what Natasha was doing to her. She craved the touches and the caresses. Her vagina was on fire with stimulation, and her hips moved slowly back and forth. She could no longer help herself; she was at Natasha's mercy. And they both knew it.

 

As Midori's body undulated slowly with her passion, Natasha moved over to her other ear whispering, “Would you like me to take off your panties, Midori?”

 

“Please, take them off,” Midori moaned. They now felt constrictive on her, her vagina seeming to scream to be unobstructed.

 

Natasha squatted down, pulling Midori's panties down her legs, exposing Midori's gentiles to her. Midori flushed crimson as she was completely exposed, but she loved the adoring gaze Natasha was giving her privates. Midori stepped out of her panties when Natasha got them all the way down, and Natasha tossed them aside. With her hands, Natasha spread her legs a little and slid her fingers back onto Midori's privates.

 

“Goodness, but you're soaking down here.” She cooed.

 

Midori gasped and blushed with discomfiture at the observation. Midori kept her privates partially shaved with a little bit of hair on top. In a weird bit of playfulness, she had lately shaved it into the shape of a heart.

 

Midori moved her hips, grinding them in a circular motion as Natasha manipulated her vagina. She gave out a shrill squeal as she was penetrated by Natasha's finger, feeling them push inside of her. She shivered as the pleasure flowed through her, arching her body when Natasha started to stimulate her clit with her thumb. Midori's eyes were closed and she gripped the bars spreading her legs wider, letting Natasha get at her more. This felt so good, better then she'd felt in a while. Midori hardly ever masturbated; usually illogically afraid somehow, someone would know what she was doing. Now, all that seemed to flow away, and she didn't care who saw her doing this as long as they didn't try to stop it.

 

And then, Natasha stopped and stood up. She took Midori by the shoulder and silently led her over to the cot. She turned Midori around, facing the exit, and pushed her down so she was sitting. With a gentle push of her hands, she lay Midori back on the bed. With sure, quick movements, she pulled both of Midori's boots off one by one, the loud slapping sound of the leather hitting the floor reverberating though the empty cell block. Natasha gently pushed Midori's legs apart, further and further until they were spread as wide as they would go.

 

Outside the window, Midori could hear the pitter patter of the first falls of raindrops. A distant rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

 

Midori moaned both with enjoyment and humiliation: she was exposed in the most pornographic way possible. She should have been mortified, but part of her was reveling in the disclosure, and an exhibitionist side of her was rearing its head in ways she'd never thought she was capable. Natasha's tongue snaked down and she licked Midori's pussy with a quick slurp. She then began to the suck and finger her gentiles skillfully, causing Midori to moan and writhe on the cot, arching her back with pleasure as the feelings consumed her. She was squealing and moaning, her voice a shrill cry as Natasha worked her pussy, bringing her almost to point of orgasm but not quite.

 

Abruptly, Natasha stopped and stood up. Midori opened her eyes and looked at her questioningly.

 

Natasha spoke, “Now its time for me to have a little fun.”

 

Natasha hooked her thumbs into the side of her skirt and pushed it down her hips along with her panties. The entire bunch slipped down to her ankles, leaving Natasha as naked as Midori. Midori pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at Natasha's exposed crotch. She let out a quick scream and a gasp and covered her mouth up with one hand, her eyes wide and staring.

 

She could see, of course, Natasha's bare vagina. It was clean shaven and devoid of any sort of hair what so ever. Not surprisingly, it was pierced: Natasha had a vertical stud in the flesh just above her clitoris, which seemed to stimulate it as she moved. Two silver rings hung from piercing in her outer and inner labia. She was dripping with fluid and her clit was swollen and red.

 

But that wasn't what made Midori gasp: jutting out from the area just above Natasha's vulva was quite unmistakably a large erect male penis. It was fully hard, a fairly good sized one, veins pulsing around it. For some reason it struck Midori as more anomalous that Natasha appeared to be circumcised. There was a small bulge of flesh at the base that may or may not have been a scrotum.

 

Natasha ran a hand adoringly along the shaft of her penis. She seemed to revel in the expression of shock on Midori's face. She moved her fingers along it, teasing it and making it bounce.

 

“Isn't it lovely?” She asked peacefully, “If you'll forgive the clique, I offer the best of both worlds.”

 

Midori didn't reply, she simply stared at the bizarre dual sex organs. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Natasha cocked her head at her.

 

“Are you still confused? I am a futanari. All of us are.” She said without volunteering who `all of us' might be.

 

Futanari; Midori had heard of them: Women born with two perfectly formed and completely functional sex organs of both genders. A strange biological phenomenon, different from hermaphrodites in that a hermaphrodite never had full use of both their organs; one or the other was always non functional. Not so with futas, who enjoyed complete use of both. Midori had thought they were myths.

 

She reached behind Midori's head and brought her forward towards her crotch. Midori hesitated. She'd only done this once on her boyfriend, and never on a complete stranger, but something about Natasha was making her give up all control to her. She leaned in and tentatively licked the tip of the cock with her tongue, as if to test and make sure it was real. She wrapped her hand around, taking it into her mouth slowly, and began to suck it. A distant tiny voice screamed in protest, but it was too far in the back of her mind and Midori was too far gone to listen. Now, all she could think of was doing whatever Natasha wanted, in hopes she'd experience more of this pleasure.

 

She wasn't particularly proficient at the task, but she began to move faster. That same hidden part of her reared its head and she began to enjoy herself, finding that she liked it. She slipped one hand underneath it and began to rub Natasha's privates, trying to stimulate her the way she had been. It seemed to be working as she felt Natasha's body tremble with her touches.

 

She slid her fingers into Natasha's vagina, moving them in and out. She had never fingered another girl before in her life, yet here she was. So much about herself that Natasha was forcing to the surface. She kept working, glancing up at the ecstasy filled face of her seducer. She loved the expression, and that she was giving to her. She slid her tongue down the shaft and over to the vagina underneath, tonguing and teasing the clit, sucking on it with her lips.

 

“Oh, Dearie, you learn so fast. Ah.” Natasha moaned.

 

Midori kept it up until Natasha stopped her. Natasha kissed her on the lips gently, and then pushed her back on the cot, spreading Midori's legs again. When Natasha leaned close, lightly masturbating her dick, Midori's breath caught in her throat as she realized what she intended. But she was too far gone to stop her. Natasha positioned her member between Midori's legs. Midori's chest rose and fell and both anticipation and apprehension. Her lips trembled a little.

 

“Please, be careful.” She whispered, “I . . . I'm still a virgin.”

 

Natasha smiled wickedly, “Not anymore.”

 

Midori yelped as Natasha entered her. There was a sharp pain at first, and something warm flooded between her thighs. She knew it was blood and that her hymen had just been severed. Her teeth gritted together as Natasha started to move in and out, picking up speed as she fucked her. Soon Midori was undulating under her, writhing against the sheets and gripping them as waves of pleasure surged through her.

 

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh!” she moaned as Natasha fucked her.

 

It did not take her long after that to reach an orgasm. She felt it building within her, reaching out and consuming her until the electric burst of pleasure flooded her sensibilities. She trembled and spasmed as the pleasure washed over her, making her writhe with delight. She arched her back, moaning, her eyes rolled back in her head.

 

Natasha continued screwing her, huffing and puffing in frantic big bad wolf fashion. She kissed Midori passionately on the mouth her tongue entering her lips. She moved down to her to her cheek and over her neck. She kissed her neck softly and gently, sucking on the flesh.

 

All at once, Midori felt a sharp pain in her neck as Natasha bit down on her skin with those peculiar sharp teeth. Midori tried to struggle but found that she was too weak. Something thin and sharp pierced the flesh of her neck, and Midori felt the warm sensation of her own blood flowing down her neck. She tried to scream but it choked in her throat as a second, even bigger orgasm rocked her body. She squirmed on the bed, half disgusted half intrigued by the sensation of Natasha sucking on the wound, drinking up Midori's blood. Rapture coursed through her, enveloping her, driving her to the brink of madness with the intensity of the joy. She cried out, this time in delight, and arched her back again as pleasure took over her mind. The room swam around her, lights and colors appeared before her eyes, faces and shapes in a psychedelic parade that resembled a drug drip. More pleasure then she had ever thought possible flowed through her as her vision blurred, hallucinations exploding in her mind and bliss searing between her legs.

 

That last thing she felt before she lost consciousness was the feeling of Natasha ejaculating inside her.

 

Midori's eyes suddenly flew open and she jerked up, screaming. A sound played softly to her left. She was disoriented and couldn't quite figure out where she was. She trembled and breathed heavy, trying to get her bearings. And then she realized she was sitting at the processing desk, fully dressed in her uniform, her law book spread out in front of her. The sound she was hearing was music, coming from the cheap clock radio on the desk. Outside she could hear the sound of rain pouring from the sky as the heavens opened up.

 

She turned quickly and glanced at the cell. Natasha lay on her cot, asleep in the same position she had been before. Midori pulled open the drawer and looked in: There were the cell keys, exactly where she had left them. She sighed heavily and put her head down on the desk.

 

It had only been a dream.

 

Midori rubbed her hands on her face. What was wrong with her? Why would she dream up something like that? She had feeling she'd be describing that piece of Freudian surrealism to psychiatrists for months to come. But at least everything was alright now.

 

Taking one last glance at the cell and its creepy occupant, Midori stuck her tongue out at the sleeping form and then got up and walked over to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, peeking out the slat in the door at Natasha's cell before starting to undo her pants. She stopped, halfway down.

 

There was blood in her panties. Lots of it, and she wasn't due for another two weeks. Her blood froze in her veins and her heart pumped rapidly. Icy fingers clawed at her skin. Her mind tried a million things to rationalize it, failing in the swirling vortex of panic that had begun to envelope her. Her knees turned to rubber and she grabbed the sink to steady herself.

 

She ran to the mirror and looked: There on the right side of her neck, were unmistakable bite marks, and a small but ugly gash right on the vein.

 

In the silence of the cellblock, Midori's screams mingled with Natasha's sardonic laughter.