Eve of Destruction (c) 
Chapter Nine 
By Fiction Writer #13 
(M/g, preteen, ped, sci-fi, paranormal)

A series of clear steel doors slid silently open as the pair moved down 
the long hallway.  Each door was etched with a multitude of odd designs, 
swirling characters that at once resembled both Chinese and Arabic.  As 
the doors before them opened, those immediately behind them slid 
closed.  With a final sigh of pressurized air, the last set of doors opened 
revealing an immense circular room with walls and floor as white as a 
midwinter blizzard.

"Welcome to the Para-Biological Research Center, PBRC for short.  Or if 
you insist on being as uncouth as Jonathan and most of the others, the 
Zoo." Malcolm moved out of the hall and into the center of the room, with 
Allen trailing behind him.

Allen stared wide eyed and open mouthed, trying to take in the enormity 
of the structure.  The ceiling was a dome that reached a height that left 
him feeling dizzy.  Along the walls were hundreds of clear steel barriers, 
each a holding cell for some new monstrosity that Allen couldn't even 
guess as to its identity.  These cells were not restricted to the ground 
floor.  Tier upon tier ringed the room nearly to the bottom of the dome.

"Allen?"

Allen pulled his eyes away from the wonders all around him to find that 
he had stopped moving, but Malcolm had continued on to the center of 
the room.  Allen walked briskly to rejoin his friend, but could not bring 
himself to cease his gawking.

"It's amazing."

"It should be after sixty years of construction." Malcolm put a hand on his 
friend's lower back, guiding him through a gap in a waist high wall 
located in the center of the room. "Watch your step."

Allen glanced down in time to safely navigate the four steps descending 
into the sunken space.  This space mirrored the round design of the 
large room.  Around the circumference computers and monitors kept a 
constant watchful eye on all of the imprisoned occupants.  Technicians 
and security guards moved around the space in a well choreographed 
dance, never interfering with each other as they went about their 
assigned tasks.

"This is the Pit." Malcolm swept his hand in an arc indicating the space 
they were now standing. "From here we can monitor, observe, and run 
tests on all of our guests.

"There are only two ways into or out of this room.  The way we came in 
is new, and connects this structure to the Science Facility.  The other 
way is above us," Malcolm pointed to the ceiling far overhead, "through 
an opening in the dome.  That's how we get our guests in here.

"This structure is constantly being renovated and updated to guarantee 
that our guests won't find themselves out of their rooms."

Allen found his voice, though it was unsteady. "When?"

"What, this?"

Allen nodded.

"Long before me, my friend.  Even before my father if you can believe it.  
This is where it all began, the birth of Project Phoenix.

"The first subject was captured quite by accident in 1938.  We just kind 
of stumbled upon it while searching for ways to protect ourselves.  But 
once we had him, we needed somewhere to put him.  Somewhere safe, 
secluded, restricted, and well protected.  From that day on, the PBRC 
has been growing and growing with each new captured species."

Allen spun slowly, his eyes scanning the high walls. "How... how many 
have you found?"

"I don't have the exact number at the moment, I've been quite busy, but 
it's somewhere in the neighborhood of six-thousand individuals.  Not 
including multiples of the same species, of course."

"So many..." Allen spoke under his breath.

"Just the tip of the iceberg, I'm afraid.  We find new subjects everyday, 
not to mention sub-species and hybrids.  Refugees of another universe, 
an untold number of life-forms from a multitude of planets.  Not just 
sentient life, some brought their cattle and pets through the rift as well.

"Granted, not all of them survived in our world.  Most probably died as 
soon as they caught an earthly virus, others when they couldn't find a 
food source that they could digest.  Then there were those who were 
hunted down by humans whom mistook them for monsters.  But a good 
number of them did survive, some even flourished here on Earth."

Allen returned his eyes to Malcolm. "How did they remain a secret for so 
long?  I mean... look at them all!" Allen swept his arm in the air. 
"Someone, somewhere, had to have seen something."

"Of course they did!  Look to our myths and legends, they are filled with 
references to the refugees."

"But that's just it, Mal.  Myths and legends!  Where are the men of 
science?"

"There are a number of descriptions of these creatures in scientific 
journals, just not in recent history.  The old discoveries were dismissed 
by modern science as flights of fancy and wild imaginations.

"There are still those out there that believe and continue to search, but 
we try to recruit them if they get to close to the truth.  Those that reject 
our offer and go public with their findings are usually dismissed as crack-
pots by the general scientific community.  So it's no big loss for us either 
way.

"Now, come with me, there's someone here that I'd like you to meet.  
One of our most special guests." 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonathan Reynolds hammered away on the keyboard in front of him as 
the private Lear jet sped to it's destination in Montana.  Once there he 
would transfer to another type of aircraft, one that would forever remain 
top secret, Aurora.  But for now he had to be content with this much 
slower private jet.

The jet did, however, afford him one benefit.  Time, something he never 
seemed to have enough of these days.  He was using what little of it he 
had at the moment to create a news story to top the events of earlier that 
day. It had to be something big, big enough to overshadow a large 
number of the world's population suddenly spouting a warning of the 
Dark God's eventual arrival.

A military coup is what he had devised.  North Korea was about to loose 
their revered leader in a bloody fight between revisionists and 
traditionalist.  The world would watch the cable news networks with 
bated breath, awaiting the outcome, and the future of the nuclear 
weapons in that country's possession.

"Well, most of the world will watch that," Jonathan chuckled to himself. 
"Sorry, Miss Teen-pop-star, nothing personal, but America will lose 
interest in North Korea fairly quickly.  Your untimely demise will keep 
them glued to their seats for weeks, especially if there are some 
questions surrounding your suicide.  Followed immediately by releasing 
that explicit sex tape you've been trying to hide for so long.  That'll keep 
em' busy on-line as well."

His key strokes hit an ever higher tempo as the pieces of the plan began 
to fall into place.  With a final flourish Jon depressed the Enter key, 
sending his coded instructions out to the world.  Unsuspecting recruits 
from around the globe would come home today, turn on their TV's or 
computers, and receive the instructions subliminally.  They wouldn't 
remember doing the things that needed to be done, or even why.  They 
would act without question.

"Just a matter of time now." 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eve rocked slowly back and forth, feeling him slide around deep inside 
of her.  There was none of the pain that she sometimes experienced 
with other men, just a tender and gentle spreading of her sex as she 
lowered herself upon his hard shaft.  His member had none of the girth 
that her grandfather possessed, and for that she was thankful.  Though 
she had come to enjoy being stretched and filled so completely every 
night, her new lover tickled a different kind of itch within.

Dr. Paul sat with his legs folded and crossed, Eve comfortably in his lap, 
with her legs wrapped around his waist.  Their arms held each other in a 
loving embrace, pressing skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.  Eve's face 
pressed against his bare chest, his head tilted down and rested on the 
top of hers.  Both had closed their eyes, shutting out the room to focus 
on each other.  Together they moved in slow, deliberate, motion.  His 
wiry pubic hair scratched at her smooth skin as they gently ground 
against each other.

Paul's lips moved in a near silent incantation. "Esho-wyn... Ah-lin-far... 
Oo-yot... Min-soln..."

Eve fought the temptation to move faster, to rise up and then plunge 
down hard as she had done when the coupling first began.  But Paul had 
stopped her frenetic pace and forced her to slow down to this snail's 
pace.  For her this was a torturous way to do sex stuff.  She could feel 
her orgasm building and building and building, but it just wouldn't come.

She'd already tried complaining, but Paul hushed her into silence by 
explaining that this was how it had to be done to ensure that both 
reached the end together.  After that she gave up trying to rush things 
and settled into the same rhythm as Paul.

As they moved she listened to his heart thumping in his chest.  It 
seemed to be getting slower and slower despite the sheen of sweat that 
coated both of them.  To pass the time and to keep her mind from 
screaming at her to move faster, she listened to her own heart and tried 
to force it to match his steady tempo.

Neither of them noticed when, at some point, their breathing matched 
up.  Nor did they notice when the candles began flickering as if in a 
breeze, though none existed, before each extinguished with a hiss.  Had 
they opened their eyes for even a second, they would not have been 
able to miss one other curiosity in the room.

Miniscule flecks of light drifted in the air around them, each a myriad of 
shifting colors.  They floated and fluttered around the conjoined pair.  
Sometimes the dancing lights passed through the couple, into one and 
out of the other, though neither Eve nor Paul reacted in any way to this.  
As more time passed, the motes grew in size, brilliance, and 
luminescence, till they appeared to be the size of golf balls that 
illuminated the room with whirling colors like a nightclub.

Paul's incantation sped up as did his pelvic rocking, and Eve was only 
too happy to match him.  Inside her cunny Paul's penis began to rub 
against something, a small spot that sent shivers up and down her spine 
with every bump.  She could feel her long denied orgasm suddenly 
begin to surge in strength, building to a maddening height, and yet the 
peak continued to elude her desperate need.  Her fingers dug into the 
tense muscles of Paul's back, nails biting into his soft flesh.

Paul's own need was also reaching a critical state.  He tightened his grip 
around the little girl, crushing her against him almost painfully as sweat 
dripped from his nose to land in the wild tangle of blonde hair below. 
'Any moment now.  Any moment.  Just a little longer.'

'I'm almost there!  Please, Dr. Paul, PLEASE!' Eve's thoughts intruded 
into his mind.  Not the first time they had communed in this manner, but 
the first time Eve had been the one to make the connection.

The spheres of light, now the size of grapefruit, orbited the writhing 
couple faster and faster.  Their orbits tightened, closing around them, 
cocooning them in a blur of shimmering color.  The lights pulsed, 
throbbing in time with their passion.

'Oh! Oh!  Its happening, Dr. Paul!  I... I can't stop it!  OhhhhHHHH!'

'YES LITTLE ONE!  NOW!  DO IT NOW!'

The lights flared brighter than a supernova as they plunged inward, filling 
both Eve and Paul with a joy neither had ever experienced before.  In 
unison their heads snapped backwards, eyes wide but seeing nothing, 
mouths stretched open, voices howling in primal ecstasy.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH... " 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Malcolm gripped the railing inside of the elevator tightly. "Did you feel 
that?"

Allen turned from the amazing view outside the lift as they rocketed 
higher and higher towards the seventy-sixth tier. "Feel what?"

"Just then, I thought I felt a shudder run through the whole building."

"Hell of a thing to bring up while we're in an elevator, Mal."

"Well?  Did you feel it?"

Allen shook his head. "No."

Mal rubbed at his right temple. "Probably nothing.  Just my imagination."

Allen got worried. "Should we go back down and check?"

"No, no.  If it's a problem they'll notify me."

Mal released his death grip on the railing, but an overwhelming sense of 
impending doom still filled him.  His thoughts turned to his daughter 
Helen and his other grandchildren.  For some reason, he got the distinct 
feeling that they were all in some kind of danger, though he couldn't put 
his finger on why.

'I hope you are okay, baby.  I hope you are safe.' 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Miles away, nearly on the other side of the state, Helen Davis dropped 
the basket of laundry she was carrying.  She watched in a daze as the 
plastic basket bounced down the narrow stairway leading into the 
basement, depositing clothing on each step during its descent.  A flash 
of white hot pain burned behind her eyes.

'Bad men are coming.  I have to... I have to... No.  Not me.  The children. 
They have to leave.  They have to run.  I have to make them run away 
and never come back.  It's not safe here.  It'll never be safe here.'

The thought was in and out of her mind in an instant.  By the time she 
regained focus it had faded completely.  Slowly she moved down the 
stairs, bending every now and then to pick up a piece of the lost laundry.  
At the bottom she up righted the overturned basket and placed the 
armful of towels and socks back inside.

Her eyes traveled to a dark corner in the basement room.  A dark corner 
that held dark things, dark things that she tried desperately to push away 
from her mind, but it was no use.  Once the darkness had her, it was 
over.

'But I promised him I wouldn't, not again... not ever.'

Before she realized what she was doing she was in the corner hunched 
over a large wooden chest, her laundry now forgotten.  Her heart 
thumped painfully against her ribs as her hands lifted the heavy lid.  
Inside the box she found the implements of her fear, her darkest and 
most perverted desires.

'I can't do this.' Tears spilled down her cheeks. 'I can't hurt my babies.'

Her hand trembled as it pulled an item from the box.  She stood and 
moved to the center of the room where a single hundred watt bulb hung 
from the rafters.  The heated glass burned her fingers as she unscrewed 
it, plunging the room into complete darkness.  A sharp pop rang out as 
the old bulb was tossed away, shattering on the concrete floor.

'I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.'

Metal scraped against metal as she threaded the new bulb into place.  
As soon as the contacts connected, the room flooded with crimson light.  
Helen stared blankly into the blood red scene all around.  There was no 
turning back now, the darkness had her.

"Stanley!" she called calmly but firmly to her husband. "Can you and 
Stephanie come down to the basement and give me a hand with 
something?" 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Paul was disoriented, lost.  He couldn't remember where he was or how 
he had got there.  All he could see was white.  White everywhere and in 
every direction.  A perfectly uniform and empty view with no apparent up 
or down.

"Hello?  Is there anyone out there?" he called out.

As if in response to his question a blurry shape coalesced before him.  
He squinted against the brightness, trying to bring the shape into better 
focus.

"Hello?  Is someone there?"

"Uh huh," a young girl's voice answered.

As his eyes adjusted the shape finally became clearer.  A young girl with 
blonde hair was sitting on a chair, her body hunched over a table.  She 
seemed to be concentrating, staring down at the table in confusion.  
Dozens of shapes covered the table's surface.

Paul moved closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't know." She didn't look up, her eyes focused intently on the tiny 
objects scattered about the table. "I'm just here."

"What's that?" Paul pointed to the pieces.

"A puzzle," she responded flatly, "but I can't figure out how it goes."

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Knock yourself out.  I've been trying to put it together for-ev-er."

Paul moved to the opposite side of the table and was about to kneel 
down when he suddenly realized that a chair was under him. "That 
wasn't there before."

"It wasn't?"

"No." Paul sat down.

"Are you sure?  Maybe you just couldn't see it before?"

Paul inspected the puzzle pieces.  All of them seemed to be identical to 
one another, and all were blank. "How are we supposed to put it 
together if there isn't a picture?"

"There's a picture, you just have to look closer to see it."

Paul leaned down until his nose was nearly touching the table. "I still 
don't see anything."

Giggles filled the room. "It's not there silly!  The picture is up here." She 
tapped the side of her head with a finger.

Paul grinned at her smiling face. "But if you already know what the 
picture is, then why do you need to put the puzzle together?"

"Because it's all mixed up.  Somebody took my picture and scrambled it 
real good.  I need to put it back together before I forget what it was."

"So, if you can see what the picture is, why can't you put the puzzle 
together?"

"I don't know.  Every time I put something together, it comes apart 
again." The little girl jerked in her seat as an idea struck her. "Hey!  Why 
don't I just tell you which pieces to put together and you can do it for 
me!"

"Do you think that will work?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's worth a shot.  Take that piece and 
connect it to that one."

Although the edges of the selected pieces didn't appear to connect in 
any way, Paul picked them up and pressed them together.  Amazingly 
the pieces changed shape and joined perfectly.

"Wow."

"Yeah, cool, huh?  Now look at 'em.  Do you see my picture yet?"

Paul blinked as the once blank pieces filled with color. "That's neat!"

"It's working!" The little girl excitedly clapped her hands together. "It's 
working!"

Her excitement was contagious, and Paul soon found himself feeling 
giddy.

"Come on!  Come on!  What's next?"

"This one and that one," she pointed.

Paul joined two more of the pieces together and the image began to 
grow.

The girl's eyes lit up in wonder. "Paul!  Your name is Paul!  That was 
driving me nuts."

Paul bit his lip in concentration before answering. "I... I'm not sure what 
your name is.  It's either Eve, or... or maybe, is it Sarah?"

"I don't know yet." She scratched her head. "Maybe it's both.  Let's keep 
going with the puzzle and maybe we'll find out!"

Paul nodded enthusiastically as Sarah-Eve pointed out the set of pieces 
to assemble.  Over and over, she pointed and he joined.  Soon the 
image began to take shape.  It was blurred, but with each additional 
connection it began to come into focus.

"What is that?" Sarah-Eve asked.

"I thought you already knew what the picture was?"

"I do, but I don't know what it is."

Paul put the final pieces into place and then stood up to take in the 
whole picture.  The entire top of the table now displayed what appeared 
to be a long corridor.  The walls, floor, and ceiling seemed to be made of 
grey concrete.  Heavy steel doors were arranged at regular intervals 
down the length of the corridor on either side.

Paul felt someone tugging on his arm.  Looking down he found Sarah-
Eve standing beside him.

"Should we try to open the doors?"

"What doors?"

Sarah-Eve pointed, drawing Paul's attention away from her blue eyes.  
The white room was gone.  They now stood in the very same corridor 
that was depicted in the puzzle.

"Interesting." Paul spun around in a slow circle. "How did we get here?"

Sarah-Eve looked at him full of confusion, "Where else would we be?"

Paul shrugged. "Don't know.  At least... I don't think I do."

She took his hand and began pulling him down the corridor. "Come on!  
Let's open some doors and see where they go!"



Continued in Chapter Ten....


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