An Escape of Demons
An Escape of Demons
I
Faith gave a grunted sigh as she laid back into the hot water of her bath, it hadn't felt so hot to her when she had started the tap, nor to her feet when she stepped into it. It was comfortably warm as she knelt and then sat in the thigh high waters. She even relished its warmth as it slowly crawled up her hips and lower belly till it had reach the point that it would almost spill out should she lean back or move to quickly within the tub. She had turned off the taps by that time and relaxed in the bath's sauna like warmth and humidity. However, now that she had committed herself to laying back against the still slightly cool to the touch porcelain tub, a false coolness that would evaporate as she acclimated to the bath fully, she could feel how truly hot it was, as it soaked through her fur and into her skin. It was that type of biting heat that she liked, the type one got used to, besides it would cool down long before she would be leaving it if she had anything to say about it...
Faith smirked to herself as she remembered better times, of taking such baths even in the recent past and how her mother had always scolded her for them, warning her on how turning as red as a lobster wasn't good for her skin...
Her smirk turned into a frown, her thoughts turning from the baths of yesteryear and to her mother and all the good times that they had shared, both the large ones like birthdays and other likeminded social events, to the small things like the simple hugs and cuddles shared between mothers and daughters, or at least she and her mother. Faith also thought of her death, the events leading to her suicide and the horror that she had borne since...
It had started, all of it, had started nearly two years ago when in a single night everything changed. On that night a thousand meteors rained molten fury down upon the world and in their wake they released some kind of mutagenic gas that transform nearly a million people into animal hybrids of one type or another. Scientist would dub it "the Moreau event", or effect, based the fictional mad scientist who was trying to turn animals into humans based on what the gas did.
Faith and her mother, Joan, had been at church that morning, helping the pastor set up for the annual food drive/fund raiser that the church had been running long before she could remember. It would mostly be taking place in the parking lot after the day's sermon, but officially started just before church began so anybody who didn't want to stay and attend it could still donate before leaving . Faith smirked scornfully to herself as she remembered the destruction caused by the meteor when it hit the church, evidently it had only been the size of a basketball when it hit, but it had struck with such destructive force she could still scarcely believe it. The scene now reminded her of hell, or her interpretations of hell anyway. The smell of burning pitch, superheated air and brimstone, not to mention the fire itself or the twisted remains of the collapsed ceiling, wreaked pews and the broken and shattered flooring like a demonic maw leading to the basement itself, maw belching fire and smoke by the way... But back then, back then all she knew was fear, fear from the thunderous sound of the impact, the hammering impact itself that was so violent it had knocked them all to their feet and of course the licking flames that were starting to crawl up from the basement from that terrifying maw... Yeah... it sure as hell reminded her a hell of a lot like of hell itself...
They had ran out of there as soon as they had collected themselves enough to do so, but it had been too late, the damage had already been done. But by just being there, checking on each other and helping each other to escape the quickening inferno, they all had breathed in the gases released by the self-destruction of the meteor long before it had enough time to be burned up in its own conflagration. The first to be affected was Pastor Gregory, he had started to cough, worse and worse, then as they were trying to help him he clutched at his chest and screamed, but by then both she and her mother had started coughing too. Thankfully, Faith lost consciousness soon after, the burning pain of her lungs and the worsening, continuous twitching, twisting of her muscles and bones had been too intense for her and when she woke up she was in a hospital. Well at first, she had woken up in a CDC field quarantine tent, but after a few days of blurred confusion those who had survived had been moved to a hospital hastily set up to house and contain those effected by the meteor storm. That Hospital, St. Hopkins, would be what she'd called home for the next several weeks, weeks that she could only define as torturous. As had everyone else at the hospital she and her mother had been transformed into anthropomorphic creature, she and her mother had been turned into field mice, and as everyone else suffered so too did they. The medics, doctors and specialist alike as well as several high and might scientist frantically poked and prodded everyone and everything, their measure only barely above humane as they dove head first into what had happened to the afflicted and seeing what could be done to reverse it.
Faith quickly learned that Pastor Gregory hadn't made it, that a lot of folk hadn't made it. And a lot more folk hadn't made it in the days after the event, each and every one of them dying from one form of violence or another...
Violence born from fear...
The violence of hate...
Of intolerance...
The monsters created from the ID, the collective human conditioning... destroy that which is strange or terrifying or temp to being destroyed yourself...
Her mother was one such victim, a victim of such intolerance and rage that she forbid herself to even live in such a world as it was created that night... Her world view, her belief in the order of things, of right and wrong had been tested and she had been found wanting. And no matter what she or her father did or had done hadn't been enough to save her and in the end, after months of degrading tests and abuse from those not effected by the Moreau gas she couldn't stand being an animal anymore and had committed...
That's when her monster, her demon was born...
II
Her father, a hard man of strict character had never been a man of belief, or faith in general, had turned to the bottle for comfort shortly after her mother had died. In his drunken state, he quickly became abusive, laying the blame of her mother's death at everyone else's feet, especially hers, for letting her down and somehow not preventing her suicide. It started first with belligerent yelling, yelling that got him in trouble at work, then it devolved into wild fits of destruction and the like, fits that ended his career at the local steel mill in which he had worked for for eleven years for drunkenness and ultimately assault.
Once free from his commitments from work he began drinking all the time, surrendering himself fully to the bottle... That was when he began to hurt her. As before, it had started out small, a backhand here, an unwanted and oft time painful noogie there, that is until he got a taste for hurting and no longer felt ashamed of himself for hurting her. No, after that is when he truly began to beat her, not just hit her in a drunken fit and begging for forgiveness afterwards. No, no. After he got a good taste of torturing her, he became addicted to it, quickly learning to enjoy bullying and beating her. She and her mother had become so small after their transforming into mice, barely standing three feet tall. No, she couldn't have done anything about it, she couldn't have fought back, she was too small, too weak, that was until she had had enough...
III
Faith sniffled and wiped away her tears, thankful that it had only stung briefly as she laid her wrists open, grimacing in pain as her hand sunk back down into the already dusty rose-colored waters. She sniffled again as she raised a hand to her eyes tiredly, fighting back her tears as she remember the first time her father had raped her. It had been nearly six months after her mother's death and she had entered another heat, her... seventh, no, eighth since her transformation. She could still remember how much it had felt then the rest, how bloated she had felt, how taught and swollen her stomach, groin and inner recess had felt, how even the simplest of activities had made her feel lustful, sinful and dirty. Without medication or her mother's comforting support, she had resorted to masturbation for the first time in her life. Of course, she had touched herself before, who in this time and age hadn't, but this time, this time was different, oh how she had relished in touching herself, running her hands across her body, rubbing and sliding her fingers into her twitching, needful petals while gripping her breast painfully.
He had heard her of course, she hadn't been careful about it, she hadn't even thought to be careful about it, and so there she was, moaning, grunting, and gasping like the animal she was, fingers plunged deep into herself, pleasuring herself as he slammed the door open to yell at her. Her lewd noises must have woken him up, and in his drunken haze, he had sought her out, to yell at her, and maybe even beat her some for disturbing him. Instead he stood there backlit in her doorway transfixed at the sight of his daughter, his innocent little girl panting in mid orgasm, Legs spread wide open, exposing everything to him with back arched sharply and fingers still stuffed within her own genitalia as it quivered around her fingers like a suckling ravishing a teat.
She had panicked at the noise of his intrusion of course, had jumped and hurriedly tried to cover herself up with her sheets, but it had been too late, he had seen her fully nude, open and wanting and had been drawn to her sin, stumbling each and every step he took towards her prostrate form. To her surprise however, he had simply came over to her, knelt down and hugged her around the waist, tears welling down his gin bloated face as he began to pet her, drunkenly blubbering, begging for forgiveness once more.
She had fallen for it or course. Fallen for it, hook, line and sinker, a torrent of mixed emotions; relief, remorse and love all welling up within her at once as she moved to return his hug. She shifted and moved so that she could hug him back, reaching out and cradling his neck and shoulders while resting her own tear-streaked muzzle against his scalp in an attempt to comfort and soothe him, to show him that she still loved him despite everything he had done to her... That was until he called her by her mother's name and she realized that he wasn't begging forgiveness for abusing her, no, he wasn't begging her, he was seeing her as a facsimilia, a ghost of her mother and was begging HER for not seeing the signs and not being there when she had needed him the most.
Disgust at the filthy, blubbering mess of a man clutching at her so desperately quickly replaced the happier emotions that had filled her only moments before as she tried to push him from herself right then and there. She remembered resorting to kicking, scratching and even biting him as she fought to free herself from his grasp, but he had fought equally as hard as she did to cling onto her. She remembered how he had climbed and mounted her as she backpedaled across the bed, desperate to hold onto her retreating form as if she were some kind of life preserver... one last line of defense in an attempt not to drown in a sea of madness and grief... And she suddenly realized, as he paused to stare down at her drunkenly, that she was now trapped underneath him, vulnerable and naked.
He had stared at her for a long, tense moment, just looking at her, his blurry eyes examining her nude form hungrily before mumbling out her mother's name once more, lust evident even through the drunken slurring. She had been frozen in fear, for of what had already transpired and fear of what was about to happen and hadn't foresight to scream out or call to him, his rational side before he had sunk down her and began kissing her deeply.
He had forced his slimy, writhing tongue into her mouth in that kiss, rolled it around the empty cavity, seeking her tongue or other plaything before playing along her upper palate and beyond, gagging her and almost causing her to vomit as it hit and passed her uvula. She had only been able to free herself from his kiss when he let go of her arms so that he could explore the rest of her naked form, grabbing her breast painfully, crushing them as he attempted to knead and play with what wasn't really there anymore, not since she'd become an animal anyway...
She had been able to grab ahold of his shoulders and push herself upwards from underneath him, but only slightly, pausing in the hollow created by his crouching position above her, trying desperately to catch her first decent breath since he had mounted her. It had been a hollow little breath, a breath stolen from her as he painfully penetrated her.
Her grip shifted from one of defiance to one simply clutching to stay afloat, her eyes bulging as she fought back her screams of pain as his thick, swollen member plied her open, stretching her until she ripped. She clung onto her father's stinking shirt and unwashed body then, clinging onto her own lifeline then as her mind threatened to wash away in a sea of pain while she moaned and whimpered. He fucked her, fucked her deep and hard, never retreating, only continuing to thrust ever deeper and deeper into her, trying to make up for all the lost time with her mother...
Everything blurred after that, she couldn't remember how long he had kept it up, only the pain of his eager rutting, but she remembered how he had grunted, locking up and released into her, spraying hot geyser after hot geyser of his seed into her. She remembered how after he was done using her he had kissed her in mock, illusionary love before dismounting her and rolling to his side besides her. She remembered how he had dragged her catatonic form closer to his sweaty, blubbery body so that he could snuggle and cuddle up with her as he fell into a blissful, sated slumber. She could also remember the acidic burning feeling of his sinful seed as it slithered deeper into her torn and bloody folds, inner recesses and eventually her womb.
Needless to say, she hadn't found any sleep that night and morning would find him waking up to her traumatized form and blank stare. He had quickly left her there, ruined, and laying in her spoiled bed without saying a word, shame and guilt trailing after him as he fled deeper into the house to find the safety of his half-finished bottle...
He would return soon enough however. After all, he had gotten a taste for this act of violence as well...
IV
Faith hadn't thought of pregnancy back then, she had shut down mentally and emotionally and the days after her rape had blended together into a semi lucid haze, a haze she woke up from when she had started getting sick on more than a regular basis. She had broken down and stole a pregnancy test after nearly a full week of fatigue, sore, tender breast and nausea and vomiting at all times, not just in the mornings or evenings before bed, but throughout the whole day.
Faith had been forced to quit school when her father had found out about her pregnancy, not that it really mattered, she had already walled everyone else that mattered in her life out by then. She hadn't wanted them to know her shameful secret, her greatest sin and taken to wearing baggy, too big for her clothing shortly after confirming her pregnancy. It, of course, had been a futile attempt in and of itself, trying to familiarize her father and peers a school to her "new" look before her swelling belly was too big to hide behind such a weak facade. Her deception hadn't even lasted very long and by the time the gentle swell of a baby bump graced her lithe form, her father had been frequenting her bed at least once a week and had simply felt her taught, swollen belly and put two and two together. He stopped fucking her then, stopped raping her, but it was already too late, he had sowed his seed and she bore his sinful fruit, their sinful fruit...
Faith looked over the edge of the bath and to... her... daughter, a wave of queasy disgust bubbling up, threatening to vomit forth and leading to dry heaves long before she could fall back to the safety of the bath, before she could actually hurl. It wasn't... its' fault, it hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't planned out its conception and birth. No, that was the fault of the man who had lain with her and was now lying dead down below in the kitchen, stabbed to death by her own hands...
With a deep breath Faith strengthen her resolve as well as the rest of her suddenly lethargic body. She felt cold now, cold and weak and couldn't stop shivering even though she was bathed in the slightly too hot water. Again, she attempted to lift herself up, draping herself over the tub's lip to look at... it... No, no, it hadn't done anything wrong, but it was still an effigy, a symbol of her father's sins, of her sins, a living affront to god and nature and it needed to be destroyed...
With heavy arms the young mouse picked up the slight shape that was her infant daughter and lifted her to her breast, offering her a free teat and letting her suckle to her fill, after all, we all deserve one last meal. She smiled a mother's smile as she watch and felt her daughter feed, petting her cream-colored head fur as she rested. Faith laid back, laying her head back against the tube, just letting herself exist as she bleed out into the water, it wouldn't be long now, soon she would be no more and neither would her daughter... her daughter who was the only innocent one in this whole affair. She rolled her eyes down to her nursing infant and tried to pet her again but just couldn't muster the strength or the will anymore so she simply existed feeling the eager sucking and kneading of her daughter, waiting for that final push to sleep...