## Archive-name: evil_of_hammond_house5^5

From: drwho@world.std.com (Patrick Donovan)

Subject: PATRICK DONOVAN: "The Evil of Hammond House" (5/5)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

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DISCLAIMER: UNDER 18? DO NOT READ! STOP HERE!

* Intro *

These stories generally depict consenting relationships between mature, loving people. These are fantasy people who don't have to worry about pregnancy or STDs (herpes, HIV, etc.), that's why they don't always use protection. Don't construe this as tacit permission to do the same. Use your heads and use protection--if not for yourself, for your partners.

And now, on with the show...

8<------------

by Patrick Donovan E-mail: <drwho@world.std.com> (c) 1995 - Black Angora Press

"Redemption"

The sound of ocean surf came up quietly in the background and Angela tried to use the effect to calm herself. Dr. Hammond must have put on an environments CD to help her relax. She liked the sea. She imagined herself walking naked on an empty beach at night, the full moon casting an oil painting glow on the water. Suddenly someone was there, next to her. It was Mark.

No, no. Not Mark. She couldn't handle that right now.

He took her hand.

"No, Mark, please not now. This is hard enough," she said to him in her mind.

He pulled her to his chest, feeling her breasts flatten against it. A rush of warmth flooded her loins.

"Mark..."

"Shhhh, you need me now. Let this happen, Angela, so you can think of the baby as mine."

"I-I wanted -- last night, I wanted -- I thought about -- about you, making a baby -- inside me."

"I know," he told her and lowered his mouth to hers.

Angela accepted the kiss and wrapped her arms around him, their tongues diving and circling one another, and she felt his sex growing against her own.

Dr. Hammond checked the readouts and saw that Angela was becoming aroused. The video camera on the impregnator's probe showed her labia parting as her sex filled with blood. He pushed a button and entered a command into the computer. Slowly the image of Angela's sex filled the screen as the probe descended towards it.

A wave ran over Angela's feet and she slipped in the sand, bringing Mark down with her. He fell beside her, pulling her towards him. Their passionate kissing continued as she felt his penis sliding over her labia, back and forth, and brushing her clitoris. Her desire was so intense that she couldn't wait for anything else and she urged him to come to her. She rolled onto her back in the wet sand and Mark loomed over her, moving between her open legs.

Z:\> run phase1.exe

Phase I: Vaginal Penetration Sequence Commencing...

The probe slowly parted Angela's lips as it moved into her. The lubricant served its purpose well, the probe seeming to cause her no discomfort at all. Her hips gyrated, helping to adjust the mechanism's angle. As the first inch or two of the probe disappeared inside her, she let out an almost primitive, lustful gasp. According to his instruments, Dr. Hammond's procedure was going well. The camera showed the glistening walls of her vagina convulsing occasionally as his patient shifted her pelvis and clenched in response to the pleasure. Within minutes the tiny dome of her cervix, with its dimple-like mouth, was in sight.

Mark's erect penis plunged into Angela's burning sex. She cried out with relief as his member pushed her wide open, touching every nerve in her. She concentrated on it as it began a long, slow descent into her birth canal, the glans widening her as it went. Eventually it touched her womb, when he was fully inside her, and she let out another cry. Then Mark began to make love to her, pumping himself in and out of her body, sending her nerves into a frenzied overload.

Z:\> run phase2.exe

Phase II: Thrusting Sequence Commencing...
Transferring 1cc of Sterilizing Protein Suspension to Probe...

The probe was in place and the outer cylinder began to slide back and forth, while the inner cylinder, containing the camera, the nozzle for the protein suspension and the impregnation filament, remained stationary. The thrusting motion sent Angela's readouts even higher and the sensors near her genitals registered the increased nerve activity. Then Dr. Hammond triggered the release of the initial injection of the sterilizing protein suspension. The monitor showed a spurt of the clear fluid spraying directly onto her vaginal walls and cervix. He was ready for the next step, but he wanted to give her just a little bit more time to experience the pleasure.

Mark's thrusts pushed Angela's bottom into the sand, creating deep impressions of her globes that were washed away with each wave that came crashing over them. Mark held himself above her, his hands slowly sinking into the sand, and her hands rested on his lower back. Her eyes were locked onto his and she could see the same emotions in them as she had the night before. Warmth. Pleasure. Joy.

No, there was more. Something she had seen at the end last night. Yes, after he came and had lay next to her. It was Love. She saw Love for her in his eyes.

"Mark ... Mark ..."

He pushed deeper.

Z:\> run phase3.exe

Phase III: Cervical Penetration Sequence Commencing...
Set Filament-Control-Mode: Manual or Auto? (m/a)

Z:\> m

A tiny, wire-like flex-tube began to extend from the front of the inner cylinder of the probe. It slid towards Angela's cervix, then stopped right in front of it. Dr. Hammond was operating the tube by remote from the control booth, his fingers moving with a surgeon's skill on the trackball of his computer. The program offered him a targeting-like capability overlaid on the view from the video probe. With delicate care he aimed the tube and eased it forward, resting it right in the dimple. He left it there for a few moments to allow the local anesthetic to take effect, then he would be ready for penetration. The front of the tube was beveled and slightly rounded, so it should enter fairly easily, but the fact that Angela had never had a baby was going to make things more difficult. The tube started forward again slowly, but it met with resistance. Hammond checked the readings: no indication that Angela was feeling anything. He increased the force of the tube a bit and, after a moment, it slid past the mouth of her womb and into her uterus. There was a jump in the readings from his patient, but they died down immediately. Everything seemed to be working to plan.

Angela felt Mark's penis hit her cervix hard and she cried out, arching her back, but the discomfort died away instantly and she was able to concentrate on his thrusts once again.

Mark was looking down at her body, taking in how it moved and shook with him. Her breasts rolling back and forth, her hips lifting up to meet his, her hands squeezing his back every time he pushed inside. He lowered his mouth to her breast and began tugging at the nipple with his lips. She gasped.

Her hands traveled to his buttocks and clasped them, feeling their muscles tighten and relax with each thrust. She wanted him deeper, if that was possible. She wanted him inside her womb, which wasn't. In any event, the thing she wanted most was for him to come. She wanted him to come inside her.

A light came on next to the sensor readouts. Angela's nerve activity sensors indicated that she was reaching a key point in the preparation of orgasm. Now came the feature Dr. Hammond had hoped would make the experience most satisfying for her. He entered another command into the computer:

Z:\> run phase4.exe

Phase IV: Orgasm Triggering Sequence Commencing...
Clitoral stimulator on-line...
Anal stimulator on-line...
Activate? (y/n)

Z:\> y

Her lover's action was pushing Angela to the edge. She had never experienced lovemaking like this, not even the night before with Mark. The power and intensity of his movement was causing her to shudder and quake as pressure built up inside her body. Blood engorged the vessels of her loins, making her sex organs ache for release. Her breathing was heavy and each exhale was used for a cry of pleasure. Her heart had become a bass drum. If she didn't come soon, it would burst.

Suddenly Angela spasmed, as exquisite pleasure shot through her abdomen. She cried loud and deep, over and over again, as the waves of ecstasy surged through her. Her vagina clenched Mark's erection repeatedly with incredible force and she lifted him off the sand as a wave crashed over and around them. Mark was doused, water running down his back in rills, and his hair tangled and dripping, but his thrusts continued. Angela bucked again as another orgasm zapped her body like a lightening bolt. This time she felt a rush of liquid leave her body. It didn't feel like it came from her vagina, but from her urethra. Another orgasm sent another gush from her. What was happening? Was this what she'd heard about some women being able to squirt if they came the right way? It was an awesome feeling, being able to come like a man, feeling the fluid of her passion shoot out of her body. Like Mark was about to do. Which she longed for him to do.

Angela's scream caused Dr. Hammond to look out the control room window. He saw her laying there, the probe moving in and out of her vagina, her hips rocking and bucking in time to the indicators on the monitor, which showed the timing of the tiny jolts of energy the computer was sending to the nerves of her genital area. Her body, though restrained, was free enough to move comfortably during the mock intercourse. The probe was also designed to allow for her movements, pivoting on its support shaft to adjust for sudden changes of angle. The internal monitor showed her vagina clasping the probe with furious intensity, rippling and convulsing. There were no signs of bleeding or any indication that Angela was experiencing anything but exquisite pleasure, so he returned his gaze to the monitors, preparing the system for Phase Five.

Angela's thoughts turned to Mark's climax. He had to be close, the way he was grunting and pumping. She had felt his penis swell several times, but each time he had backed off, waiting for her to come. Now she had come, and come, and come. The fluid from her urethra had showered all over their joining, making it incredibly slick, and Mark had picked up the pace when she did that. His balls were slapping against her bottom, brushing her anus, as his member drilled her like a piston. It was soon, so soon, and Mark's seed would burst inside her, coating her walls and the portal to her womb. Soon the seed would begin to flow into her, searching...searching...

Z:\> run phase5.exe

Phase V: Impregnation Sequence Commencing...
Transferring Ovum/Nutrient Solution to Probe...
Transferring Remaining Sterilizing Protein Suspension
to Probe...
Activate Ejaculation Sequence? (y/n)

Z:\> y

Dr. Hammond's finger paused over the <ENTER> key. This was it, the moment he had worked toward for years. All that he had done, all that he had felt compelled to do, came down to pressing this one button. The life his daughter had never finished could start again. Even if she never knew who or what he was, she would have a life and a mother that, he believed, would love her and care for her. He had to do this. He would pay the price for it later. Somehow, he felt that justice would find him.

He closed his eyes and pressed the key.

Angela felt Mark's body tense up and she knew the moment was near. Suddenly, and with unnatural energy, he grabbed her hips and pulled himself to his knees with her legs still around him. His penis was still moving inside her as he adjusted his hold on her, clutching her buttocks, keeping her suspended above ground. She tightened her abdominal muscles to help keep her balance while she threw her hands to his shoulders. Now she was bouncing on his erection, feeling it butt her inside again and again. She cried out as another wave of orgasms swept over her, juices gushing from inside her body and hitting Mark's abdomen. His penis began swelling again, then pulsing, then throbbing. Then he came. He came, inside her, like a hose turned on full.

The probe moved faster as the program triggered the mock-ejaculation. Inside Angela's uterus, the filament began moving side to side, spitting streams of pink fluid over the blood-coated walls of her womb. Outside her cervix, the probe unleashed the remaining protein suspension, sending it out in numerous semen-like spurts against the puckered dome and the glistening-pink walls of her vagina. Hammond watched on the monitor with deep satisfaction and pride.

"Mark! Oh God, Mark! Come, come! Oh God please come!"

He uttered a deep, passionate cry as he emptied his semen inside Angela. Another wave rolled over them, as if in time, but she was oblivious to it. She was experiencing another wave instead, as the proof of Mark's love was spilled inside her body. Each spurt sent a jolt coursing through her soul, each explosion charging her with passion, each impact reminding her of what was to come: the tiny, featureless embryo that would grow within her womb. Soon it would have arms and legs, hands and feet, eyes and a nose. Soon it would begin to turn and kick inside her, letting her know she it there. Soon it would be seen on a sonogram screen and Angela could view her little girl for the first time outside her dreams. Soon it would emerge from her vagina and be placed in her arms, wet and wrinkled, crying and yawning. Soon it would be nursing from her breast, like ... like ...

Angela realized that Mark was suddenly laying on his side in the sand, his mouth tenderly suckling at her left nipple. She ran her hand through his wet, sandy hair. He slid his hand down to her abdomen and lay it there, as if knowing what was going to be. After a moment he stopped suckling and lifted his head, looking into her eyes.

"Mark. Oh, Mark," she whispered. "I love you, I love you so much. I can't wait until she's here so we can --"

He raised a finger to his mouth and silenced her.

"Just remember, my sweet Angela, that I will always love you. I will always be with you. Never forget. Never forget. Never forget..." and as he spoke those words, he slowly faded, until there was nothing there, not even an imprint in the sand.

"Mark? Mark! Come back! I love you! Please don't leave me alone! Please!"

Dr. Hammond was shutting down the computer after having withdrawn the filament and probe when he heard Angela crying out. He ran out of the control booth and to the exam table. She was calling out for Mark, the man he had killed, the one whom she had only just learned that she loved. Tears were pouring down the sides of her head as she struggled against the restraints. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently.

"Miss Smith? Angela? Wake up, wake up. It's over, the procedure's over."

Angela's eyes flickered open. "Mark, where's Mark? Oh God, that was so -- take your hands off me!"

She tried to raise her arms to ward him off, but then remembered they were still chained. The doctor lifted his hands and then proceeded to remove the restraints and lower the leg supports. She rubbed her wrists and stomach, as well as her arms and chest. She must really have strained against the bands to have caused such dents in her skin. It must really have been as good as it seemed in her dream.

"I'm sorry," he tried to explain. "You were having a nightmare. I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Yeah, all right. Just please, never touch me again."

Angela sat up slowly. As she did so Dr. Hammond turned to the side table and picked up a fresh hospital gown. He handed it to her and she pulled it over her front, tying it behind her. Then she tried to stand up, but her legs buckled underneath her and the doctor instinctively tried to help her up.

"I don't need your help, doctor," she warned him, but her attempts to stand simply failed. Her legs were asleep. "All right, this one time," she finally conceded.

Hammond put his arm around her back and another under her legs, then carried her to the patient room. There he put her to bed, provided her with another glass of water when she requested it, and left behind the jug if she wanted more. He showed her the intercom in case she had a problem, told her he would be in the control room for awhile reviewing data, and bid her good night. After that she lay back, but doubted she would get any rest. Within three minutes, though, she was out and dreaming about her trip to Yosemite National Park with Brenda. A tear rolled down her cheek as she slept.

Dr. Olias Hammond rubbed his eyes. It had taken him several hours to go over the data from the procedure and to review the video from the probe. It all seemed to have worked just fine. No abnormal readings during any part of the procedure. Now it was done and Angela was resting. All he had to do was make a few tests over the next few days to see if implantation occurred and things could go from there.

He held his head in his hands, finally finding a chance to rest for the first time in almost two days. He began to think about all that had happened. All that he had done to make this work. He remembered the early days of the project, his research and experiments on animals, then the later days when he tried to arrange for a surrogate mother. Then there was Margaret's death. That day the project died with her. He remembered the day he closed down the lab, putting the samples into deep freeze and dumping all his files down to CD. Then there were all the empty, lonely years. Lonely and without happiness, until the night they came.

Dr. Hammond saw Angela's face the way she had looked that night. Frightened and tired. So much like Margaret had been when they met. Then he began to see other faces. He tried to turn off the memories, but they just flooded in. He saw Lisa's body tumbling to the floor, the feathered shaft sticking out next to her spine. He saw Carl's face of shock and grief, heard his pleas for life, saw the bolt pierce his brain. He also saw Robert's expression of total surprise as the projectile's impact with his throat woke him from a nodding sleep. Then there was the Asian woman. What was her name? Brenda. Thank God he hadn't seen her face when she died. He could remember the feeling of her breast in his hand and her buttocks wriggling against him as she struggled. Her pleas for mercy were burned into his mind. He would never forget the fountainous spurts of blood as he pulled the knife across her throat, nor would his dreams allow him to forget her heartbeat dying under his hand. His surgeon's hands. Lastly there was that man, the one Angela had loved, the one who fought so valiantly to save her. Mark. The vision of that man's death and the look in Angela's eyes afterwards were interconnected and he would never be able to remove them from his memories. What had he done? How could he go on living after this? Was Angela right, was he really insane?

Now there was a new face in front of him. Or, rather, an old face he hadn't seen in years. A face he once loved and cherished more than any other.

"Stacy," he called to her.

"Daddy? Daddy, what have you done? How could you do this, daddy?"

"Darling, my darling Stacy, I did this for you. I did this to bring you back ... so you could have what was taken away from you."

"Daddy, look what you've done. Look what you've become. I don't know who you are anymore. My daddy would never have hurt anyone. He swore an oath. You're not my daddy. You're just a cold-blooded murderer. I don't want anything to do with you -- ever."

He jerked awake, tears running down his cheeks. He grabbed his glass of brandy and drank the last drops. That was better. Wait, what was that noise? At first he thought it was his imagination, but then he heard it again. There was definitely someone moving around out in the operating room. Dr. Hammond got up to investigate.

"Miss Smith, why didn't you use the intercom. I would have brought you anything you need."

There was no response and the sound had stopped. Looking around the room, which was almost entirely dark except for the light from the computer over on the lab tables, he noticed that the door to the house was open. He had closed it, he was sure. Maybe Angela had gone into the house to look for him -- or to try to escape! He ran to the door, but before he could get through it something smashed into his chest and he flew back into an equipment cart, sending everything crashing to the floor. Someone was walking toward him, carrying something in his hand. It looked like a pole or a piece of pipe. His attacker raised it again and brought down hard across his back. The doctor hadn't been able to move quick enough, but he managed to keep on his feet and stumbled towards the lab table. The pipe flew again, this time smashing a whole tray of test tubes.

"Who are you? What do you want?" cried the doctor.

"Where is she? Where is Angela?" growled the intruder.

Dr. Hammond struggled along the table, but the blows had stunned him and several bits of glass had struck his face. His hand fumbled for the controls on the lab table and he managed to find the switch for the table lights. They snapped on, blinding the man with the pipe, but the doctor was too shocked to take advantage of his incapacity.

"Oh my God..." he screamed. "It's you!"

Many dreams later, Angela was reliving a visit to Cappio's, the Italian restaurant where Mark used to work. Brenda and Lisa had taken her there for her twenty-first birthday dinner and Mark managed had to get himself assigned as their waiter. He had done an incredible job, despite pushing the cork into the bottle of Chablis, and they were both planning to leave him a big tip. In Angela's dream, Mark was just bringing their dessert, Cappio's famous cannoli, when he suddenly dropped the tray. Wait, that didn't happen ...

... Angela awoke to the sound of clanging metal and crashing glass. She struggled to shake off the haze and stumbled towards the door. Outside she could hear yelling.

"Where is she you bastard? What have you done to her?"

"You? How can it be you?"

"I'm a ghost, come back to haunt you. Now where is she? If you've done anything to her I'll kill you. I swear it!"

Angela peered from her room to see Dr. Hammond, cut and bleeding, backed up against his lab table. All around him on the floor were scattered metal trays and tables, smashed pieces of equipment and glass fragments. Standing in front of him, silhouetted in the lights of the lab table, was a menacing figure wielding a piece of pipe in one hand. His back was to Angela, but something seemed familiar. That voice, that stance, that physical shape...

The joy of recognition swelled in Angela's heart.

"Mark..." she whispered to herself, stunned. "Dear God, it's Mark!"

Her lover, however he had survived, raised his pipe and brought it down on another batch of test tubes and beakers. It sent a spray of glass over both of them. Hammond cringed, but Mark didn't seem to care.

"Where is she?!" screamed Mark.

"She's here! She's safe! Please, just stop destroying my equipment! Those samples are all I have left!"

Angela's hand went to her belly.

"Show me where she is," Mark ordered the doctor. "Now!"

Hammond started to move towards the patient room, but then he saw her standing in its doorway. Mark turned with him and stopped dead as he saw her. She was looking ruffled, her hair a mess, the bruise still on her forehead from the accident in the van, her robe about to fall off.

"Angela! Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded in assent, feeling too stunned at his miraculous resurrection to speak. At the same time, though, she took in his condition. Mark was looking worse than Hammond for bruises and cuts, not to mention a sling for his left arm and a pronounced limp in his left leg. His black sweats were torn and the exposed areas of skin were scraped and bloody. It was a wonder he could stand at all.

"Miss Smith, you shouldn't be up. You need a lot of rest after a procedure like this," said the doctor.

Mark's eyes blazed. "Procedure? What did you do to her?" He raised the pipe.

Hammond refused to be cowed. "She agreed to it. It was my research, my work. I had to do it. No one can take that from me, not even you!"

"What did you do to her?!" screamed Mark and cracked the pipe between the doctor's shoulders, winding him and sending him toppling forward into another equipment trolley. Angela stifled a gasp with her hand. She had never seen Mark like this before.

After a few moments Dr. Hammond rolled off the cart and fell onto his back. Blood was pouring out of his nose and mouth. Mark raised the pipe again. He was breathing heavily, and with apparent difficulty, as he tried to catch his wind and speak.

"You killed ... four good people ... tried to kill me ... and then you performed some perverted operation on Angela. How could you do this? How could you be so evil?"

The doctor's eyes filled, first with sadness, then with determination.

"Yes, Mr. Petri, I am evil. I killed your friends to protect myself. I cared nothing for their lives. Ending them was no more difficult to me then performing an appendectomy. You should have heard that Asian bitch beg for her life before I slit her throat, and I felt nothing after her heart stopped beating in my hand -- "

"You fucking pig!" Mark exploded and lifted the pipe high over his head, ready to smite the doctor's skull.

"Mark, no!" cried Angela. "Don't do it! Don't make yourself like him. You're not like that. He needs to live the rest of his life in prison remembering what he did. You don't. If you kill him you'll never be able to live with yourself!"

Mark slowly brought the pipe down and let it drop to the floor. As he did so, they heard voices from the door leading into the house and several state troopers rushed into the room, fanning out. One found the lights and turned them on. When they saw that the situation was safe, they put there guns away and preceded to pick up Hammond and cuff him. One of the troopers approached Mark and Angela.

"Are you all right Mr. Petri?" he asked.

Mark nodded. "Yes, lieutenant."

The trooper turned to Angela. "What about you, miss?"

She leaned on Mark and nodded her head. "I'll-I'll be all right. I just want to go home."

Mark wasn't so sure. "Angela, you really should have a doctor look you over. After what he did to you --"

"Mark, I'll do that later. After we've had a chance to talk."

He put his arm around her and walked her to the door. She turned and, for just a moment, stared at the impregnating machine. Then she turned back and left with Mark.

On the way through the basement Mark found where Hammond had stashed Angela's belongings, including her track suit and underwear, which she quickly put on, making her feel one hundred percent better. Then they went to the second floor to retrieve their items, as well as their friends' (knowing their families would want them). The sheriff's department and the coroner's people were already there picking up the pieces. Fortunately Robert and Carl's bodies were covered up when they walked in. That made it easier for both of them. Unfortunately the officers wouldn't let them take any of the packs or other items out until after everything had been photographed and cataloged. It looked like they would have to stay in the area for a few days. Not a pleasant prospect.

As they walked on the mezzanine towards the stairs, Angela glanced down the West Wing hallway and saw the window where Mark had fallen out the night before. She finally felt up to asking about it.

"Mark, how did you survive that fall?"

He chuckled in response. "I almost didn't. I broke my left arm, cracked my left leg, fractured several ribs. It hurts like hell. I was unconscious until long after the sun was up. I crawled to the gate and managed to find a branch to use for a crutch. After that I dragged myself to the highway and found a state trooper looking for us. He'd found the note I left at the van. When I told him what happened he called for back-up, but I said you were still up here and I could show him around the place. He was reluctant to risk me, but I insisted we look for you. I told him I would come back up here by myself if he didn't want to go. You more or less can figure it out from there."

She put her arms around his back and lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was such a safe and reassuring sound.

"Just in case I didn't say it yesterday? I love you."

He kissed her, though it hurt, and started down the steps with her help.

"Just for the record, you did say it, but it's always good to hear it again. I woke up from that fall thinking it had all been a dream."

She let go of her smile for just a moment. "I wish some of it had been."

They walked silently out of the house.

The sun was beginning to go down when they emerged. The darkening driveway of Hammond House was filled with state police and sheriff's cars, ambulances and the coroner's wagon. People were everywhere, photographing this, measuring that. Many of them had been in the house and were now bringing out numerous items, including Hammond's black overcoat costume and the crossbow he'd used to murder Lisa, Carl and Robert. They also had the knife that ended Brenda's life. Then they started wheeling out their friends' bodies. Angela let the tears flow, no point in stopping them any longer. She needed to get it out, and it was comforting to look up and see that Mark, too, was crying.

Several officers wanted to talk with them. They tried their best to tell the story of the killings and of the fight with Hammond. Angela wasn't ready to discuss what had been done to her in the lab and the officer wouldn't press her right then.

After finishing the extensive interviews, they walked around a little bit. An EMT wanted to look at Mark's injuries, since some of the wounds were still bleeding. With reluctance, but at Angela's insistence, Mark complied. They sat there, holding hands, while the technician did his work. Occasionally Angela helped out, since the EMT's partner was looking at the damage Mark had done to Hammond. Watching him across the driveway, Angela began to wonder about the things he had said just before Mark tried to kill him. Had he really meant that about not caring about what he had done?

Hammond was bustled into a car to wait out the investigation. More questions were asked of the couple, but much of Angela's time was spent holding her abdomen and thinking about what she had been through. She looked up at the house and wondered if she could ever forget the place. Its stone edifice seemed to remain in her vision, even when she closed her eyes. It was going to be a long time before the pain would even begin to fade.

Suddenly there was a commotion. Angela opened her eyes and saw officers scrambling around the yard.

"He's escaped! Hammond knocked out one of the deputies and got his handcuffs off!"

"Where is he?"

"Check the house. Keep looking!"

While everyone was running around, trying to figure out what was going on, a man wearing a sheriff's jacket approached Mark and Angela. With the sun going down behind the trees, they found it hard to see him clearly until he was within a few yards. By then it seemed too late. It was Hammond, and he was holding the crossbow in his hands, the point of the bolt aimed straight for Mark's head.

"No!" Angela shouted.

The sound of several guns being drawn out and a shotgun being cocked was heard.

"Drop the weapon, Dr. Hammond. Put it down nice and easy."

The doctor seemed to be wrestling with himself, a look of resignation finally came to his face.

"Good-bye, Angela," he said. Only she and Mark heard it.

Hammond started to lower the crossbow, but then he brought it up sharply and pulled the trigger. Three bullets and a shotgun blast ripped through the physician's body in an instant, making him twist and splatter blood as he fell. Angela's scream died away slowly. Then all was still.

Mark was unharmed.

Angela was the first to kneel beside the dying body of Dr. Olias Hammond. Amazingly, he was still breathing. His eyes looked searchingly into hers.

"Margaret, Margaret..." he croaked.

"Oh my God," she heard Mark say.

He lifted the crossbow from the ground where the doctor had dropped it. The arrow was loose. It had never been locked down. The crossbow hadn't been cocked when he held it on them.

"He-he did this on purpose," Mark stuttered.

It all began to make sense to Angela now. When he had told Mark those things in the lab about not caring, he was goading Mark into killing him. He wanted to die so he could be punished for what he had done.

"Margaret, Margaret..." cried the doctor once more.

Angela, against all reason, took his hand.

"I'm not your wife, Dr. Hammond."

"Please forgive me. Please forgive me for what I've done."

More tears began to come to Angela's eyes.

"I'm not the one to ask forgiveness from, Dr. Hammond. I can't do that. You need to ask your wife and daughter when you see them. You need to ask God. I can't give you absolution. My soul will never be the same after what you've done."

He nodded with a jerk. "I understand."

The EMT came over to help, but it was obvious the doctor wasn't going to last very long. He did what he could.

Angela released Dr. Hammond's hand and it fell to the ground. She started to stand, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Angela, wait, please." He coughed up some blood, which the EMT tried to clean away. "Please, promise me -- promise you won't let my Stacy die. Please. I beg you. Don't let her die."

She glanced at Mark, who gave her a quizzical look. Then she looked down at the ground. Finally she looked at Dr. Hammond.

"Doctor, whose egg did you use for the procedure?"

His eyes glazed over.

"Doctor! Whose egg did you use for the procedure?"

His mouth moved, but she could barely hear the word. She put her ear to his mouth.

"Brenda," he gasped.

She sat up and watched as his eyes fluttered and his body shook. In a moment he would be dead.

"All right, Dr. Hammond. I'll take care of Stacy."

She felt his hand tighten around her wrist. The doctor managed a smile in his last moments.

"Thank you," he croaked, then turned his gaze skyward. "Forgive me, Stacy..." he uttered, and then stopped breathing.

The EMT turned to the troopers. "He's gone," he said, and packed up his equipment, leaving the officers to sit around the body of their prime suspect.

Angela turned to Mark and helped him stand up. Together they walked to the ambulance and crawled inside. Sitting in the back she lay her head on his shoulder and they held hands. Twenty minutes later the EMT found them sound asleep

Eventually Angela and Mark returned to Eastern Colorado State, where news of the murder of four students rocked the University and surrounding community. Prayers were said, candlelight vigils held, articles written and scholarships started. Some people drank to forget, others went to student counseling for help in dealing with the pain and a few even dropped out of the semester. Among those, not surprisingly, were Mark and Angela. Their lives were turned on end for weeks after the incident. Telling the story -- what they would tell -- over and over again was a great strain on them, especially Angela, who seemed to be ill quite a bit of the time. Exceptionally stressful were the funerals and talking to the families of their friends. Lots of time was spent in planes and trains trying to get everywhere. They flew to San Francisco for Brenda's funeral and stayed with the Xu family, then took a train to San Diego for Lisa's. Her parent's were particularly devastated as she had been their only child. The day after that they flew to New York and met with Robert's uncle, Louis. They were unable to make it to Carl's funeral in Kingston, but they did get to speak to his mother when she came to the school to collect his things. With all they had to do, it was several weeks before Mark and Angela really had a chance to grieve.

Angela moved out of the apartment she had shared with Brenda and put her furniture in storage. It was too much too soon after her brutal death to remain in the place. Though Mark had asked her to move in with him she refused, telling him she needed time to herself. She wanted to go home to her family. Mark was inclined to do the same thing, but he was loathe to be away from Angela. She was often quiet and aloof and refused to talk about what had happened to her. Then there was to problem of her being sick much of the time. Mark was very concerned, but refused to pressure her into talking. Finally, a month after the tragedy, Angela told Mark what Dr. Hammond had done to her.

At first he was angry, swearing and shaking his fists in frustration, but then his anger gave way to tears. He apologized to Angela for being so selfish and wanted to know if he could to anything for her. She took his hand and asked him to promise to always be there when she needed him. He promised.

The next day the parted, Angela flying to Seattle and Mark to St. Louis. She spent several months at her sister Lucy's house near Mt. Rainier and he stayed with his mom and dad in their condo by the Mississippi. Both of them had their trouble talking to people. Angela couldn't talk to anyone but her sister. Her parents just wouldn't understand. Lucy was shocked at what had been done to her baby sister, but she managed to be understanding and reasonable in helping her come to a final decision about things. Mark could talk to his parents and they tried to understand. He was thankful they at least tried. Though they both missed each other greatly, Mark and Angela did benefit from their time away from school and the reminders of that night.

Mark returned to ECSU after a month in Missouri. He tried to pick up with his composing, but the inspiration just seemed to be gone. Maybe when Angela got back it would return. If she came back. Part of him felt he would never see her again.

A few months later, after a long night at work, Mark stumbled into his apartment and threw off his clothes, not even bothering to fold them or hang them over anything. He crawled into bed and fell soundly asleep. Sometime later he stirred when he felt someone crawling under the covers with him. He was still groggy, but he felt the warmth of bare, soft skin against his back. He turned over gradually and smiled as he recognized Angela's face. He put his arms around her, pulling her naked form against his, and kissed her tenderly. Her breasts rubbed against him and he let his hand wander down to them, caressing the firm balloons. She moaned, rolling onto her back. It was then that Mark realized something was different about her. Her abdomen had grown. He reached up and turned on the light.

"So you've decided?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Lucy helped me work it out. I believe it's important for me to keep her."

Mark nodded absently as the debate in his mind continued. He thought he had made a decision, but his self-doubt couldn't seem to leave him alone. He had been wrestling with what he would do if Angela decided to keep the baby. He loved her and he had promised her would be there for her, but could he see the baby and not think about Hammond and his evil? He had come to the conclusion that he could accept it and would, if she decided not to abort it. Could he still keep to that choice? Yes, he had to.

"What have the doctors said?"

She smiled. "They did a lot of tests, which came out fine. I got an ultrasound done last week. Would you like to see the picture?"

"Yes. How clear is it?" he asked as she rolled over and grabbed her pocketbook off the floor.

"Pretty clear," she answered, rummaging through the folds of her purse. "Here she is."

Mark looked at the black and white photo. She watched his eyes light up at the sight. His gaze swept from the picture to her tummy and back. A huge smile, the kind she loved to see on his face, spread across his mouth. He propped the picture up on the nightstand and rolled over to put his head on her breast. Then he marveled at the beauty of Angela's swollen belly, running his hand down over the bulge in her tummy.

"It's so beautiful," he told her as he continued caressing her.

"I can't wait until you can hold her. I think she's going to be a darling."

He scooted up closer to her, laying his head on the pillow with hers. "Have you decided on a name?"

Angela cast her eyes down and began tracing her finger along Mark's hand. "I was thinking of Brenda. I thought that seemed appropriate, since it was her egg that Dr. Hammond used."

He took her hand and squeezed it. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Part of her will live on in your daughter."

Angela's face fell. "I was hoping, well, praying really, that you might start thinking of her as 'our' daughter."

Mark picked up her hand and kissed it. "I promised I would be here for you and I will. If you want me to be more than that, well, I've thought a lot about that, too. I know it will be hard to deal with the memories, for both of us, but there is help we can get for that. If we can work on it together, then I think I can handle it."

She put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. Mark's hands brushed over her breasts as he reached around to pull her towards him. Soon they were facing each other, breasts against chest, belly against belly, sex against sex.

Angela kissed near his ear. "I know I wasn't ready to be intimate with you after all that happened, but I hope you'll let me make it up to you now."

"Now?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Now. Make love to me now, Mark."

His mouth moved towards her breasts, eliciting moans from his lover. Then it descended over her belly, lacing it with kisses, and into her dark forest. Laying still on her side, Angela lifted her top leg up and allowed him access to her moist sex. Moments later his hands were clutching her buttocks and his tongue was deep within her vagina, her body rolling in ecstasy. Her legs gently held his head as she rocked her hips. It had been so long since he had touched her, and she had been thinking about him a lot while she was away. His touch was very powerful and she came quickly.

Soon he was moving between her legs. Angela remained on her side, which was more comfortable for her, and Mark straddled her bottom leg, lifted the top one, and guided his manhood towards her waiting mound. It parted her soaked labia, penetrating deeply, and Angela felt him hit her inside and she quivered. He began thrusting, moving inside her. He clasped one of her buttocks in one hand and rested the other on her beautiful pregnant belly. His balls rubbed against her inner thigh. Her whole body trembled as she built towards another climax. She felt her organs writhing and tugging, straining against the rush of blood in her loins as it released another orgasm. She cried out, bucking her hips and clenching his penis firmly. Another jolt went through her and this time she gushed from her urethra. Mark was caught off guard, but she encouraged him to continue. He pumped a few more times and she gushed again, the fluid of her orgasm coating their bodies and soaking into the sheets.

"Mark, oh Mark. God Mark, I love you!"

Finally, his pelvis slamming into her again and again, Mark felt himself starting to come. His testicles released their hoarded sperm and sent them into his seminal vesicles, from there his prostate gland began to clench, forcing the sperm and semen to mix and rush down his urethra. They could both feel his erection throb and pulse as ribbons of semen gushed out of the head of his penis and into her birth canal. Six, seven, eight spurts of his thick white cream filled her body. Angela felt it cascading against her cervix and warming her insides as Mark rocked and rolled with her body.

"Oh, Angela! Angela! I love you, too. I love you!" he cried.

The throbbing of orgasm slowly dimmed in their bodies, allowing them to relax and collapse together in each other's arms. They slept that way peacefully, all night.

Six months later, Brenda S. Petri-Smith was born. But hers was not the only new life to begin that day...

Patrick Donovan <drwho@world.std.com>
Amateur Romantic/Erotic Fiction
Black Angora Press
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Last modified (12/24/96 14:10:40) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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