Fans of the show The X-Files, may be saddened by the ending of the series after some nine seasons. And that final episode, like so many of the shows, left us with many unanswered questions. It's somewhat obvious that the producers have left an opening to wring out one more feature length movie, starring our heros, Mulder and Scully. Hopefully, we'll have our questions answered about the alien invasion, about Scully's baby and the super soldier program, and about who the heck is behind it all. However, until such movie comes about, here's a bit of fluff to tide us over.
And yes, the names have been changed to protect the guilty. The scene near
the end I lifted almost intact from the first movie, because I thought that
spaceship in the Arctic was pretty awesome. This story gives us a somewhat
different twist on the alien DNA / super soldier idea. Also, don't
be put off by the opening scene, for as you know in the X-Files, things aren't
always as they first appear. Enjoy.
XX-Files: The Lost Episode.
by Dino Dave
The previous show was amusing, but now you settle back in your chair for the XX-Files. The Buffalo weatherman is calling for snow, heavy at times, ending sometime tomorrow morning. Then, on the screen, it's a warm summer's night. . . .
A two story wood frame farmhouse is shown. Lights are on in some of the rooms and, also, as the camera pans around the building, inside the screened back porch. There, Johnathan Sikes sets aside the newspaper he's reading and stands, stretching. He moves towards the screen door.
Two fingers at his lips, he lets out a piercing whistle. "Maude! Here Girl!"
A big dog, nosing along a dry creekbed, lifts up her head at the sound. Instinctively the animal turns, bounding towards her master's voice.
The dog crosses the lawn at a run. It looks something of a cross between a Retriever and a Sheep dog. Her fur, long, gray, shot through with small speckles of black makes her look something like a large, overweight Leopard in the wash of the moonlight. The dog takes the steps two at a time, to brush against her master's legs. Johnathan bends to pet her side.
"Come on old girl. Let's go to bed."
The big dog looks up at her master with her soft brown doggie eyes, then gently pads through the doorway and into the house. Johnathan locks the screen door, then follows.
The flush of the toilet, the bathroom door opens, and Johnathan turns off the light. He moves to his bed and lifts the covers to slid underneath. Maude shifts over to give him room, and his arm goes around the warm, soft, furry body beside him. He reaches to stroke the hair from her eyes.
Maude's eyelids flutter as her master's lips brush hers. He probes with his tongue and her jaws relax, giving him entry. He feels around the long, sharp incisors, with the tip of his tongue. Then, one of Maude's whiskers tickles up inside his nose. Johnathan breaks the kiss to embrace her tightly.
"I love you," he whispers softly into her ear.
The dog's lips work to form the now strange words.
"I-rr rr-ove you, Master-rr."
A tiny breeze lifts the bedroom curtains. Outside, the crickets fall silent. Some small movements of the bed draw Johnathan to wakefulness. He feels a cold, wet nose slip past his thigh and he smiles. Reaching down, he gives his companion's head a scratch.
Maude's long tongue wraps around his cock making him moan at the touch. He draws in a sharp breath as warmness envelopes him. Maude's mouth works, gently at first, then, with slightly more urgency.
Sharp sudden pain pulls his mind, screaming, fully awake. He tears at the bedclothes to fling them aside. Blood sprays as Maude bites again, teeth, ripping flesh. He screams loud, and her attention is drawn. Eyes gleaming, maw agape, she leaps at the camera. Go to black.
Theme music plays. Run opening. [load_file xxfiles.au]
Quillenco FBI training center. Room 305. Dianna Silky narrates a slide show to a group of trainees.
"You'll note the marks around the neck, and also, the bruising around the wrists, and ankles. The cause of death was, of course, strangulation. Anyone?"
Agent Silky scans the faces of the students around her. Most stare blankly at the screen. The glazed eyes of the dead man in the slide stare back.
A noise from the back causes a few students to turn, and the screen is momentarily washed with light from the hall as the door to the room opens, then closes. Silhouetted against the pane of glass, two agents stand. A smile comes to Agent Silky's lips as she sees the two arrivals. Her hand goes to her hair and she lifts a few strands to her mouth, running them between her front teeth and tongue. Then, her attention shifts, as one of her students speaks up.
"You said the deceased hands and feet were bound with chain." The soft voice of a pretty blond girl in the front row floats through the stuffy room. "So there was a struggle?"
"Most definitely a struggle at some point, yes." Agent Silky scans the crowd again to see another of her students, the ruggedly handsome James, debating whether or not to speak. She smiles, then prompts him. "James?"
"Uh, Miss Silky. The, uh, report stated that the man's door was locked, and nothing else appeared to have been touched in the apartment. Could this death have been accidental?"
Dianna raises her eyebrow at him and James continues. He reads from the worksheet on his desk. "The man's hands and feet were locked in chains, yet it says that the keys to the locks were on the bedside table next to him."
James looks up into Agent Silky's face, then quickly looks away. Dianna is smiling at him, but her eyes have the look of a cat, just before it's teeth snap the head off a mouse. Nevertheless, James presses on. "Could it have been something, uh, sexual taking place here. Some sort of masturbatory fantasy gone wrong?"
Agent Silky's eyes dance and she grins. She turns to the rest of the class. "Autoerotic asphyxiation. It is said, that restricting the blood flow to the brain during the moment of orgasm heightens the experience. Each year though, nearly five hundred people die in this very manner. As this gentleman, here, did."
Dianna moves to switch off the projector. She crosses the room to flip on the lights. The rows of overhead florescents flicker on, washing the room in their harsh buzz.
"Pick up next week's case file as you leave, people. You'll have to work hard with this one. Again, the clues are not what they seem."
As the students make their way up the stairs and out, the two men who'd entered make their way down to the front. Agent Silky stands with her hands on her hips and waits.
"Muddler, what are you doing here? I thought Skinny re-assigned you to Alaska?"
"I had my skis packed and I was all ready to go. Change of plans, though." Agent Fax Muddler turns to the man next to him. "This is Special Agent John Dogged. He's going to be helping us with a case we've been assigned."
Agent Silky looks up into the two brown pools of Agent Dogged's eyes. John Dogged gives his head a tiny nod, which causes his shaggy hair to flop over his face. "Pleased to meet you, Ma'am."
Dianna glances sidelong at Agent Muddler. "What case is this, Muddler. The case of who left their exploded lunch in the break room microwave?" Dianna's eyes finally release their hold on those of Agent Dogged. "And what's this `us' business?"
"It's an XX-file, Silky," states Muddler.
"The XX-files have been closed, Muddler," sighs Dianna. "Over and done with."
"Seems that someone wants them re-opened." Muddler opens a folder he's carrying to pull out a photo, which he shows to Silky. "Burleigh County Sheriff was at a loss to explain these marks."
Agent Silky cringes at the sight of the body in the picture presented before her. Even with all her experience in forensics, the sight of the man's face, slashed to the bone five times, is still unsettling.
"Oh my God," exclaims Dianna. "What could have done this?"
Muddler shows her another photo of the man's injuries, the ones further down on the body. Dianna winces, while Dogged looks away.
"These could have been done by teeth," Muddler offers. "At first glance, the slashes on the face could have been done by the paws of a large animal. But animals around these parts large enough to kill a man usually have four claws, not five."
Dianna looks again at the photos. "These rows of puncture wounds in the groin area do look to have been made by teeth. Possibly by large dog. The man's face does appear to have been swiped by a big paw with sharp claws, but if it had been a dog, or a large cat, five cuts just doesn't fit. Bears have five claws though."
"Muddler was told that nothing inside the house was damaged," Dogged adds. "A bear would likely have torn up the kitchen looking for food."
Dianna looks up at Dogged, then at Muddler. "So it wasn't an animal that did this?"
"Unless. . . ?"
"Unless what, Muddler."
"Unless we're dealing with a new species of animal."
"In the middle of North Dakota?" asks Agent Dogged. "That hardly seems likely."
A low, concrete industrial building, but inside, modern, futuristic. Downstairs, in a basement conference room near the research labs, Dr Hastings sits watching his latest creation. She sits on the other side of the glass, watching herself in the mirror.
Jennifer sits on the bare concrete floor; can do little else, really. A hinged steel band collar encircles her neck, held on her by a padlock. A second padlock fastens the end of a chain to it. The chain hangs down her front, three feet, passing between her breasts and down to her pussy to then, by means of another lock, encircle her left ankle. From her ankle, the chain leads on behind her to the center of the room's floor. The other end of the chain is imbedded in the cement.
Jennifer, naked, raises her arm, then lowers it. Eight months ago, a prostitute, a heroin addict on the streets of Vancouver, one of dozens of nameless runaway teenage girls ensnared by the bright lights of the city. But now, this. Jennifer raises her hand to her face and, turning her head, smooths the silky soft white fur covering her cheek. Her hand travels down to her neck. Encountering the steel at her throat, her eyes take on a hard look. But then, bypassing the collar and chain, her fingertips glide over the softness of her furry chest and touch, first the left one, then the right one, the warm bumps of her nipples that protrude just slightly past the surface of her fur.
Jennifer turns her collar to bring the chain to her side so it won't pull up tight in her crotch. She raises herself up on her knees and she turns her right side towards the mirror. The soft white fur at her front gives way to light orange, tawny, coarser fur at her sides. On her back, down her back, a darker ridge of fur. And her sides, her thighs, striped, in orange and brown.
She puts out her hands and goes down on all fours. Her collar jerks her neck as the chain pulls up tight. Jennifer lifts up her foot to ease the pull of the chain, and she stares at her image in wonderment, and a kind of horrified awe. Movement at her rear catches her eye, as the stub of her developing tail gives it's first, erratic, swish. On the other side of the glass, a smile comes to Dr Hasting's lips.
Mark Hammel, owner and founder of Hammel Labs, enters the area to stand near his partner.
"How's our little tiger this evening?" he quietly asks.
"Her tail twitched," Dr Hastings answers excitedly. "The neural links have begun forming."
The two men stand watching as Jennifer, oblivious to their presence, turns her backside towards the mirror. She stares hard at the orange and brown striped protrusion that's just above the white furred ring of her asshole. She flexes a few of her muscle groups down there, and then, the stubby tail curls up slightly, then straightens.
A look of terror flashes in the girl's eyes. She moves to leap to her feet, but the chain snaps hard between her collar and her left ankle, causing her to stumble and fall hard to the floor. Jennifer starts to scream. Her hands go to the chain and her fingers pull at it. Her claws extend, but they have been kept trimmed short so she won't injure herself, or anyone else.
"No! No! Noooo," she cries, terrified.
On her collar, a tiny yellow light begins to flash. A little pump fitted inside a hollow part of the collar begins to work, and a millilitre of sedative is misted into the air around her face. Her struggles diminish, and the exotic girl-tiger that once was Jennifer, manages to crawl to her mattress in the corner before the drug induced stupor overtakes her.
The doctor replaces the remote control device for her collar on a shelf near the two way mirror. He and Mark stand.
"We should begin her training phase soon," the doctor says to his partner and boss.
"I'll begin making enquiries to find a suitable training facility," Mark answers. "Once our new exotic creatures come to accept their new bodies, and learn how to best use their new charms, they will make lovely companions for our group of backers."
The two men leave Jennifer to her slumbers and turn away from her window. The Doctor and Mark circle the conference room to look into the other holding cells. In three other rooms, strange looking girl creatures also sleep quietly on their mats. The two men leave, to head upstairs.
Walking along the plush, spacious hallway upstairs, Hammel and Dr Hastings are met by an agitated Melvin Scruggs, head of security. He holds up a newspaper to the two men.
"Have you seen this?" Melvin asks.
The headline of the paper screams, "Dog bites man!" Underneath, "Johnathan Sikes killed in bizarre animal attack."
"Sikes. . . Sikes. . ," thinks Mark Hammel. "He let us use his farm to house our second generation subjects."
"He has one of them," adds Scruggs. "Remember? Name was Mildred, or Maude, or something."
"All the model two's were to have been terminated," states Dr Hastings.
"It was his wife," says Hammel, remembering. "She was sick, and the DNA replacement cured her at the same time as it changed her. You think she did this, Scruggs?"
Scruggs points to a paragraph in the paper. "Says here he was killed by what appears to be a large animal of some kind. You know that the model two's were prone to instability."
"Damn." This was all they needed, thought Hammel. They'd solved the instability problem with the third generation. And now with their fifth generation serum, with Jennifer and the others, the process was nearing one hundred percent repeatability.
"We don't need past mistakes haunting us now," says Hammel. "Scruggs. You go see about this Maude Sikes. Do what you can to quieten things down there. Tomorrow morning, Hastings and I will clean things up here."
"Yes, sir," says Scruggs.
Two cars, one a Sheriff's car, and one a non-descript sedan, drive up to the Sike's house and stop in a cloud of dust. The Sheriff and his deputy get out of the cruser, Muddler and Silky get out of the other car. The Sheriff leads the two FBI agents on a tour of the crime scene.
In the upstairs bedroom is the blood soaked matress. On the floor, more blood, and a chalk outline of a human marks the spot where Sikes had crawled, or had been dragged, and where he'd died. Dianna takes a quick look through the man's closet, while Muddler stares out through the back window.
The four officers split up to briefly look through the house. They meet up out back, where Agent Muddler is standing staring at a wooded area behind the house.
"Looks like a path goes through those bushes," Muddler says to the Sheriff. "Do you know where it leads to?"
"There's a gully further on. I think the trail goes as far as Long Lake."
"What is it, Muddler?" asks Agent Silky.
"I'm not sure," he replies.
Fax Muddler starts walking along the trail with Silky and the two policemen following. They soon come to a low area which appears to be a dry creek bed. Silky hears a noise and turns.
The Sheriff catches rapid movement off to the side in some bushes. He motions to his deputy to circle around, and the two men investigate. Muddler climbs over a log, then looks. Something large charges at the deputy, then veers off and speeds towards Muddler. Fax raises his arms in defense as the animal leaps. Two shots ring out in the still afternoon air. The body of a big animal brushes past Muddler's shoulder as it falls to the ground, dead. Fax looks to the Sheriff as he's lowering his gun.
"Thanks," offers Muddler. "I guess I owe you one."
"Don't mention it," quips the Sheriff.
The four law officers gather around the body of what appears to be a large dog. It's fur is gray with black speckles. The animal is large, and looks like a cross between a Retriever and a Sheep Dog. Agent Silky bends closer to examine the animal.
"That's odd," Dianna says.
"What is?" asks Fax.
"There's something not quite right with this dog's skeletal structure. Look how the back legs are so different from the front legs. And the paws," Agent Silky moves the dog's front paw and spreads out the pads. We see five claws, not four. "Oh my God!"
"Agents!" shouts the deputy from the bottom of the dry creek. "You'd better have a look at this."
The boom truck slowly raises the camera to give us an overview of the area. Bones, hundreds of them, are scattered along the sides and bottom of the creek. The deputy lifts up what could be a human skull.
Melvin Scruggs places his call from the bus depot in town. Mark Hammel, in his office at Hammel labs, picks up.
"We're too late," puffs Melvin into the phone. "The Sheriff and two FBI agents have found Maude, and the stupid bitch seems to have led them right to the generation two graveyard. What are we going to do?"
"Relax, Scruggs. Nothing's going to tie us in with that mess. And if the FBI does think to come see us, there's going to be nothing here but a tidy little research facility.
"Catch the next plane home," Mark orders. "We'll see you when you get here."
** You dash to the can when the commercial comes on, to take a well needed piss. You return with a fresh beer and a bag of salt and simulated vinegar flavour potato chips. You manage to get the noisy bag opened before the show comes back on.
Dr Hastings and an assistant stand outside the door of Jennifer's holding cell. The doctor aims the remote control device through the glass of the door, and presses a button twice. On Jenifer's collar, a tiny yellow light blinks. The girl-tiger is sleeping quietly on her mat now, yet within moments, her slumber deepens. After waiting a few minutes to be sure the drug has taken effect, Dr Hastings fits a key into the lock and opens the door. He and his assistant enter.
The doctor passes by where the chain is fixed into the floor and he follows the trail of links towards the girl. He pauses and holds his arm out to his assistant as Jennifer's foot twitches, making the chain tinkle. The tremmours pass, and her breathing returns to normal. The doctor approaches her and bends down.
Taking a key from his pocket, he unlocks the lock on the chain at her ankle. The assistant hands him the chain she carries, and he exchanges warm links for cold, circling Jenifer's ankle with one end of the new chain. Her foot twitches again making him pause with the lock through the links. Then, the doctor clicks the lock closed.
Moving to her head, Doctor Hastings slides the collar around on her neck to expose the chain and it's lock. The key is inserted and turned, and the lock snicks open. The doctor unhooks the long chain and hands it to his assistant. She coils it up into a pile on the floor in the center of the room. Dr Hastings takes the end of the three foot chain that's attached to her ankle and he locks it to her collar. The fur at her neck feels silky soft against his fingers.
With his finger, the doctor softly strokes the girl's cheek. He kneels on her mat and gently lifts her into a sitting position. Cradeling her head close to his chest, he lets his hand slowly stroke down the sleeping girl's back, petting her, as if she were a big cat.
Somewhere, far off, Jennifer feels a chill brush across her chest as the chain links slip across her erect nipples. She senses a presence and a warmth, and a strength. Her hand seems to reach out towards that strength, and her fingertips seem to touch, then curl against another person's chest. Jenifer feels that another person is gently touching her and rocking her. A smile pulls at her lips. She feels safe and contented.
Doctor Hastings bends low to graze the fur of her forehead with his lips. Almost to himself, he whispers, "You were my favorite, my pet. I'm truly sorry for what we must now do."
With one arm under her knees, the other under her shoulders, the doctor lifts the deeply sedated girl from her mat. Standing, he and his assistant leave the room.
Upstairs, and out onto the loading dock, the doctor carries Jennifer into the back of a truck that's parked there. A large wooden sided crate is inside the back of the truck. The sides and bottom of the insides are padded, and laid out on the pad in the bottom are three similarly chained girl-beasts. One has striped fur like Jennifer has, one has black fur and her features are more dog like, and one girl, it's hard to tell what she more closely resembles. Where she has fur it's scraggly and red. Her skin is tanned brown with a greenish tint to it. The collar she wears sits loose around a thin, elongated neck.
The doctor sets Jennifer down with the other sleeping girls and turns to his assistant, and another man, the truck driver. "Close them up and finish loading the truck. You're to leave at first light."
"Yes, doctor," says the driver. He and the doctor's assistant swing shut the front of the crate and latch it closed. They then start loading boxes and pieces of large equipment into the truck to help hide the wooden crate.
The doctor leaves the loading dock area to walk up to the second floor and Mark Hammel's office. There, he overhears part of a telephone conversation.
"Well of course. I'd be happy to help. Yes, the morning will be fine. See you then."
Mark replaces the reciever and looks up at doctor Hastings. "Well that's just great!"
"Wnat's wrong?" asks the doctor.
"Well it seems that agents from the FBI have been going through the Sikes house, and they've `found a few papers with the name Hammel Labs on them'. Seems that that idiot Sikes never use to throw stuff out. I wonder what else the cops are going to turn up over there? Anyway, an agent from the FBI is coming here for a little chat in the morning. Have you finished loading the test subjects?"
"Yes sir. I just have some files in my lab left to go through. You want everything disposed of, right?"
"Of course." Mark Hammel stands to cross over to a wall safe. He dials the combination. "With the FBI taking an intrest in our goings on, we have to make sure this place is just another boring old research lab."
Mark opens the safe and draws out a long narrow box. The box is a greenish gray metal, and it has four strange markings on the cover. Mark sets the box down on his desk and the doctor moves closer. Mark pushes two catches on the sides of the box.
With a click and a hiss, the cover seems to roll back into the box revealing the contents. Small glass vials of a blue green liquid lay nestled in padded indentations inside. The vials seem to glow with an unearthly light that pulsates slightly. There are nine padded slots inside the box, with five of them holding a vial of liquid. The two men stare at the contents before Mark moves the catches, and the cover rolls closed with a thump and a hiss.
"I'm taking this home with me tonight," Mark tells the doctor. "I'll get it into the safety deposit box at the bank, tomorrow morning, before I meet with the FBI agent. I want you to make sure that everything else to do with this project is on that truck and it's all out of here. All right?"
"Sure Mark. I'll take care of it."
"Right." Mark Hammel places the metal box inside his briefcase along with some other papers. He closes the case and then turns to go.
Mark heads towards the front door, while the Doctor returns to the basement to help clear up the remaining evidence of their experiments. He sees that the holding cells have been scrubbed out, and some boxes and some equipment have been moved into the rooms, mostly to hide the chains that are cemented into the floors. In his office, the Doctor has a last look through his files, to make sure that nothing is left that will tie Hammel Labs in with any immoral DNA experiments on unwilling test subjects.
Back at the loading dock the last few boxes are loaded onto the truck, and the door is closed and locked. The driver moves the truck out into the parking area. He'll spend the rest of the night with it to be ready to leave by dawn. The doctor gets into his car and goes home.
Inside the crate in the truck, four strange girl creatures stir softly in their sleep.
** You're ready to jump up when the commercial comes on, but the vision of the topless mermaid creature has you glued to your seat. When the spot is over, and hours, days later, you could accurately describe the shape of her breasts, and how the darker hue of her aureola contrasted with the material of her mermaid suit, but the product she was shilling will forever remain a mystery to you.
In the morning a white truck turns onto the road and heads West, past the Hammel Labs building. Moments later a gray car rounds the corner to park in the visitors parking area of the lab. Agent John Dogged gets out and enters the building.
A pretty red headed receptionist gives Agent Dogged a tour of the facility, showing him the office area, and the labs on the main floor and in the basement. Downstairs, Agent Dogged looks into the storage rooms and the staff lunch room, the conference room. Later on, Agent Dogged meets the director of the facility, Mark Hammel. The two men chat over coffee, mostly about fishing though. In his office, Mark shows Agent Dogged a bamboo fly fishing rod he keeps there.
Agent Dogged leaves, convinced that the papers that were found at the Sikes home, with the Hammel Labs name on them, are unrelated to the case.
In a downstairs room at Lakeside Hospital, Agent Silky is doing an autopsy on the big dog that had tried to attack Muddler. Fax Muddler is examining some bones from one of the many cardboard boxes stacked up in the corner.
"Muddler, come look at this," Silky asks.
"What is it?" Agent Muddler replaces the bones he'd picked up, and he moves to the desk where Dianna is looking at some papers.
"When I examined the dog's teeth, I knew that something didn't make sense. Nobody does such detailed dental work on their dog. Look at this. These are the dental records of a one Maude Sikes, Johnathan's late wife. She was suppose to have died six years ago."
Muddler looks at the dental chart, then looks at the teeth of the big dog on the examining table. He checks the chart again, then the dog's mouth.
"That's impossible," he states.
"All right," says Agent Silky, "then take a look at this. This is a patient record from a Mrs Maude Sikes, who had a broken leg set fourteen years ago, right here in this very hospital."
Dianna clips an X-ray up on a light box. Using a ruler, she measures the length of the Tibia, then, from the top of the leg bone to the break. Moving to the cadaver, she spreads the fur covered flesh she'd cut to expose the leg bone. She makes the same measurements, the length, then, from the line on the bone where the break healed, to the top. Dianna does some quick calculations on a whiteboard on the wall.
"Allowing for the differing lengths of the bone, the break is in the same place."
"That could still be a coincidence," says agent Muddler.
"Really?" replies Silky. "The very same teeth filled in the exact same way. Although the teeth themselves have somehow changed shape, the restorations are the same. And the leg bone. Despite the bone having somehow become shorter in length, the break follows the same plane, and in exactly same place. What are the odds?"
"Pretty long, I'll admit. Have you taken a DNA sample yet?"
"Already done and sent off. We should have the results late tomorrow. I've also sent samples of those bones you were looking at."
"How long do you figure those bones have been buried," Muddler asks.
"Has to have been five years, maybe six. . . ."
The two agents look at one another and Muddler arches his eyebrows.
"About the time Sikes' wife supposedly passed away," Dianna whispers.
A white truck turns off the two lane highway and into a roadside diner. The driver gets out and stretches, then walks into the building. Inside, he takes a seat and checks the menu.
Outside, another truck is backing up. It backs up right to the white truck and the back door rolls up. One man inside cuts the lock with a pair of bolt cutters and another man rolls up that door. The men leap across into the Hammel Labs truck and start rummaging through boxes.
"Just papers and shit here," one man says.
"This is some kind of machinery," says the other. "Hey! This could be a still!"
"It's a seperator, stupid. It's used to seperate blood and stuff."
After working through the contents of the truck, and finding little of any value, the men come to the wooden crate in back. One of them snaps the catches and they lift the lid.
Something big and black and furry leaps from the crate. Two big paws with sharp claws rip across the faces of each man. The men's hands go to their faces and they yell and turn away.
The three girl creatures, and Jennifer, bound from inside the crate and climb over the contents of the truck. They make for the gap between the two trucks. The one creature with the thin neck becomes disoriented by the bright sunlight streaming into the trucks and she cracks her head hard against the side of one truck. She falls back, stunned. The other tiger striped girl gets her chain caught on something as she's squeezing between the two trucks. She's left struggling, hanging upside down from the back.
Jennifer and the black girl-dog make the ground and start running. Although blinded by the intense sunlight, and hobbled by their ankle to collar chains, they gain ground, peeling away from the two trucks in opposite directions.
Jennifer makes the side of the diner and turns to look. The bright sunlight is painful to her eyes, but she's able to make out the other girl, the black dog-girl, standing confused in the middle of the road. There's a loud sound of a truck's air horn. The black dog-girl tries to run, but her chain trips her up. She's hit by the truck and propelled through the air some fifty feet to land in a crumpled heap alongside the dusty road.
Jennifer shuts her eyes tightly and she tries not to scream. Her hand grips the side of the wall so hard that her blunted claws leave marks in the wood. But then, she takes a few deep breaths to gather her wits, and she moves back into the shadows at the rear of the building.
People come out of the diner, either to stand around and gape at the truck from Hammel Labs with the two strange creatures there, or, to run over to, then turn away from the one laying crushed by the side of the road. Soon, a black coloured van and a car pull into the parking lot and several men get out. They begin to clear the people away from the trucks and the body of the girl-dog. The other two girl creatures, and the one that is dead, are bundled under blankets and hustled into the black van. Jennifer, holding her chain taught so it won't make noise, slowly creeps away from the diner and off into the surrounding bush.
Night time. Lakeview hospital. Morgue. Agent Silky is on her cellphone to Muddler. We see her head as she turns and she leans against something behind her.
"I know it's impossible Muddler, but I'm convinced that this creature is Mrs. Sikes." Agent Silky runs her fingers through her hair. As the camera moves back slowly, we see that her shoulders are bare. "Anyway, when the results from the DNA test come back we'll know for sure."
"What about all those other bones," Muddler asks. "Anything on them?"
Silky picks up a skull and turns, holding it up to the light. Another hand, a man's hand, reaches up to stroke the top of the skull with a fingertip.
"They appear to be human," Dianna says into her phone, "but there are dissimilarities that I can't explain."
The man's hand moves from the skull Dianna is holding, to stroke across her shoulder and down her arm. Dianna shrugs off the man's hand, and turns her back to the disection table while continuing her conversation. "If these bones are human, something has acted on them at a molecular level. Likely the same something that changed Maude into this. . . this. . . creature. Have you heard from Agent Dogged?" Dianna turns again and lowers the skull to the table.
"I spoke to him earlier. Hammel Labs was a dead end." Muddler looks at his phone, sensing something's amiss.
A man, naked, and very much alive, is laying prone on the disecting table in front of Agent Silky. Silky stands before him in bra and panties. She still has the skull in her hand and, grinning slightly, she's trying to fit the man's erect penis into one of the eye sockets.
"All right Muddler. I'm nearly done here. I'm going home soon to get some sleep."
"Have a good night, Dianna." Muddler closes his phone and looks pensively out the window.
Agent Dianna Silky puts down her phone. She sets aside the skull she's been toying with. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her lacy white panties, and slowly lowers them to the floor. The man on the table leans forward to watch. Then, Dianna climbs onto the table to straddle the man's hips.
A sleek red Jaguar turns off the street and pulls up to an opulent townhouse. The car stops, and Mark Hammel steps out. He goes to his door and opens it. Inside his house he sets down his briefcase and turns on the lights.
Mark looks up and sees the head of a man sitting in his chair by the fireplace. A curl of smoke drifts up from the man's cigarette. The man slowly raises his hand to his lips, takes a drag, inhales the smoke, and smiles, savouring the flavour. He then blows the smoke out in a slow stream. "Good evening, Mark," the Smoking Man says.
Mark looks around. "How did you get in here?"
"That's not important," says the Smoking Man. "I heard you had a visit from the FBI this morning."
"That's right," Mark says warily. "Agent Dogged didn't find our research labs all that interesting though."
"Everything had been moved out beforehand?"
"And where are our little beauties now?"
"Same place we dumped the last ones. The old copper mine in Oregon you told us about." Mark looks at his watch. "They should be arriving there about now."
The Smoking Man takes another long pull of his cigarette. "That truck never made it out of Ohio. We had to go in and clean up a rather ugly mess, thanks to you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your driver left his truck for something as foolish as to get something to eat. The truck was broken into, and the cargo escaped. My men were able to contain most of it, but one managed to slip away."
The Smoking Man stands up, and Mark takes a step backwards. The man sees this, and smiles, then he tosses his cigarette into the fireplace. He straightens up and steps towards Mark, stopping in front of him. The Smoking Man looks hard into Mark Hammel's eyes.
"The samples you've been assigned. Where are they now?"
"In the bank. The safety deposit box," Mark answers.
"Good, good." The Smoking Man lifts a package of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He slowly draws one from the pack, puts it between his lips, then takes out his lighter. He lights the cigarette. The Smoking Man takes a long drag, then looks up into Mark's eyes again. As he speaks, smoke rolls out from between his lips. "You're not to go near that bank under any circumstances. Understand? When it's safe, we'll move the DNA samples. We've all come too far to let one sloppy operation jeopardize the whole program. All right?"
"Ye. . . yes, sir."
The Smoking Man brushes past Mark on his way out the door. When he's gone, Mark Hammel lets out a long breath.
A forest at night. We see an owl perched on a tree branch. The bird swivels it's head and lets out a hoo-hoot. On the ground underneath, something large scurries by.
Jennifer pauses and picks up her head. She raises herself higher, up on her hind legs with her front paws in the air. The chain from her collar to her left ankle stretches tight, and she listens warily. Then, she's back on all fours and running again.
Jennifer has no idea where she is, or where she's going. But one thing she does know. She doesn't want to be found by those men that were at the truck. Her enhanced vision picks out a tree stump looming out of the darkness and she dodges it, but a root catches on her chain. Jennifer is brought to an abrupt stop as the chain pulls her head down, and the momentum of her body tries to flip her over. Jennifer lets out a yelp as her ankle is wrenched painfully by the pull of the chain.
Laying on the cold ground, Jennifer feels around her ankle under the chain. She presses slightly and yelps again, but it doesn't feel like anything's broken. The girl tiger pulls her chain free of the root and then carefully gets her feet under her again. She looks around, then slowly gets moving.
Some time later on, the trees give way to an open field. At the edge of the forest, Jennifer stops and carefully scans the clearing before her. Then, crouching low, she makes her way though a field of high grass. We see an arial view of her movement through the grass, until she comes to the side of a gray wooden building. Jennifer stands crouched against the rough wall and looks past the corner. She quickly ducks back.
Across an open area is a small log house with lights on inside. Jennifer tests the door to the barn and finds it unlocked. She slips inside, closing the door behind her.
A dim nightlight lights the interior. The floor of the barn in one corner is piled with hay. A ladder leads to a loft over what looks like a horse stall. Up in the loft is a work bench with a vise, and mounted on the wall up there are some tools. Jennifer carefully and silently begins to climb the ladder.
At the top of the ladder she has to raise her foot high to make the loft floor. As she shifts her weight, an intense pain from her sprained ankle stabs through her. She moves too quickly, and her other foot catches on her chain. Jennifer makes a grab for the top of the ladder as she falls, and her chain hooks over one side of it.
Her body slips past the side of the ladder and she's left holding on for dear life. With her claws short and not sharp, they slide on the wood and she loses her grip, falling a further foot and a half until her collar to ankle chain that's hooked on the ladder halts her drop. Jennifer begins screaming in pain and rage as she's left hanging over the side of the ladder by the chain locked to her collar and her foot.
Inside the log cabin Bill Boggs hears the scream coming from his barn. Taking a lantern and his shotgun, he goes out to investigate. At the barn he pauses, then throws open the door and raises the light and his gun. He stands staring openmouthed, as the exotic girl-tiger from Hammel Labs, hanging off the side of his ladder, stares back at him.
** Another batch of commercials to have to sit through.
Bill Boggs flips the light switch on the wall and stares at the chained creature tangled up in his ladder. Jennifer, trying not to let show the intense pain she's in, stares back at the man in the doorway.
Bill sets down the lantern and takes a cautious step towards the tiger like creature.
"How did you get up there?" he asks. His eyes grow wide when the creature responds to his question.
"Please? Help me?"
Bill takes another step closer. Jennifer closes her eyes and moans.
"Are you hurt?" Bill asks.
"I. . . Uhhhg!"
Jennifer's fingers scrabble against the side of the ladder as she tries to right herself, but it only causes more pain in her stretched and chained leg. Bill, sensing her distress, quickly moves towards the ladder. He pauses at the bottom, torn between wanting to help the creature, but not quite knowing how. Tigers are suppose to be dangerous. Though this one, chained and stuck, helpless, injured, is in definite need of some assistance. Bill sets down his shotgun, and puts one foot on the ladder.
"I'm going to try and get you down. All right?"
Jennifer's struggles cease. She nods her head.
Bill climbs up the ladder until he can look into the girl's eyes. Her eyes are like those of a cat, but behind that, they are the eyes of a little girl who's frightened and in pain. Bill reaches out to put an arm around the girl-tiger's shoulders to help support her weight. His fingertips sink into her soft, silky fur, as the hard steel collar presses against his arm. Jennifer closes her eyes.
Bill steps up a few more steps while lifting Jennifer's weight. The pain in her foot eases. Jennifer brings her arms around the man's neck and he tenses, watching her warily. But when he feels the creature's chest press against his, and she makes no seemingly agressive moves, he climbs up the last few steps of the ladder.
Bill turns, holding the girl, to disentangle her chain from the top of the ladder. He sets Jennifer down on a tattered old couch across from his workbench. Bill moves a few feet away and stands looking at her.
Jennifer is twisting the collar on her neck and she rubs the fur underneath. She looks down at her foot and the ankle where the chain ends, locked around it. She bends and rubs her ankle lightly, wincing at times. The fur around her ankle is scraped and worn off from the rubbing of the tight chain. Finally she looks up at her rescuer.
Bill moves to a wooden chair and sits. "You're not from around here, are you. Let's start with your name."
Jennifer glances towards the ladder leading down and to the outside. She tests her injured foot with some weight, wincing with the bolt of pain that shoots up her leg. It begins to sink in that her options are severely limited, and so she looks up at Bill again. "Jennifer," she says in her soft, smooth, catlike voice.
"Jennifer. Would you like to tell me how you came to be dressed like a tiger and chained, hanging from a ladder in my barn?"
We now see a montage of video clips and images, as Jennifer relates the tale of her kidnapping, and her being locked in a basement room at Hammel Labs, then subjected to daily injections for a month. We watch her slow transformation from girl, to some kind of tiger like creature. The series of clips end, with Jennifer sitting on the couch looking at the floor.
"After I'd escaped from the truck I ducked behind the building. I saw the other girl get hit by a truck on the road. Then, a few minutes later, a black car and a van pulled up and stopped. Some men got out and they took the two other girls, and the one that got killed, and they quickly bundled them into their van, out of sight.
"That's when I ducked around back of the building and left."
Jennifer stares at a spot on the floor. Bill is looking at her. Finally, he stands up. He goes to the workbench, and picks up a heavy set of bolt cutters. He turns to the girl who's watching him.
"I can cut off your collar and chain with this. I'll take you into the house, if you want, and I can give you something to eat. I'll also take a look at your foot. I'm no doctor, but if I wrap it up and you rest it for a while, it might help. All right?"
"And what do you want from me?"
"Nothing. I only want to help you. That's all."
Jennifer gives her head a tiny nod. Bill watches the girl for a few more moments. Then he takes hold of the bolt cutters and opens the jaws of the heavy tool. Bill centres the shackle of the lock holding the chain around Jennifer's ankle in the jaws of the cutter. His arms strain to bring the tool handles together. Then, with a thump, the jaws bite through the lock and it pops open.
Agents Dogged and Muddler are chatting over morning coffees in Muddler's basement office. Agent Silky walks in with a report in her hand. She drops it on Muddler's desk and he opens the folder.
"DNA report on the creature that tried to attack you, Muddler," Agent Silky says. She glances at Agent Dogged briefly, then looks at him again. Agent Dogged smiles at her. Silky continues. "There's something rather interesting about the animal, and with those bones we found at the scene."
Agent Silky moves close to where Muddler is sitting. Agent Dogged steps in behind her to also see, as she points to the DNA report.
"You see how these DNA strands continue on, here, and here," says Dianna, pointing. "Normal DNA sequences end here. Yet the samples from the animal that attacked you, and from the bones we found, all have these extra coding molecules."
"So someone has modified the DNA," says Muddler.
"Gene splicing," adds Dogged.
Agent Silky glances back at Dogged. She lets her hand drift back to brush over the front of his trousers. Agent Dogged flinches slightly at the contact. Dianna turns and reaches down to turn the page in the report. Her bum presses against Dogged's leg, but this time he doesn't shy away.
"Here's an analysis of the added compounds. See anything strange?"
Muddler asks, "What are all these gaps?"
"Unidentifiable chemical compounds."
Muddler looks up. "What?"
"Yeah. That's what I said. Unknown elements, I was told. Not of this world."
"So where did they come from," Dogged asks, "outer space?"
Both Dianna and Muddler turn to look at Agent Dogged.
"What?" he asks.
Dianna Silky enters the outer office of Deputy Director Skinny, and his pretty secretary with the long dark hair flashes her a smile. The girl presses a button on her intercom.
"Sir? Agent Silky is here to see you."
Director Skinny's deep masculine voice sounds out from the speaker. "I'll be right there."
Dianna perches her bum on the edge of the desk and leans in close to the girl. The secretary demurely lowers her chin while still looking at Silky with her big doe like eyes.
"That was very nice," Dianna purrs, "the other evening. I enjoyed myself."
"Thank you, Miss. It was good for me also."
"How's your bum? Still sore?"
"No, Mistress. Not sore, but the marks are still there."
The girl's eyes grow wide and she glances around the office. "Here? Right now?"
Agent Silky holds her gaze. "Yes, now. I want to see."
The secretary stands and her hands nervously move to the waistbelt of her skirt. Just then, Director Skinny opens his door and he peers out at the two women. "Agent Silky?"
Dianna's bottom slips off the secretary's desk and she moves towards the door Skinny is holding open. She glances back at the girl. "Perhaps later on, then."
"Yes Miss Silky." The relieved girl sits back down while Dianna is shown into Skinny's office.
Dianna takes a seat in front of his desk while Director Skinny leans against the wall by a window. Skinny makes an adjustment to the blinds as he nods to a report on his desk - Dianna's DNA report on the Sike's case. Dianna crosses her legs and lets her above the knee length skirt ride up an inch higher on her thighs.
"I read your report," states Director Skinny. "I'd like to hear your opinion of what it was that tried to attack Agent Muddler at the Sikes house."
"Sir. The animal that the Sheriff shot and killed was the same one that killed Johnathan Sikes. The wounds on the man's face match the spacing of her claws, and the bite pattern on his genital area also matched." Agent Silky re-crosses her legs, letting her skirt slide up a bit more. "As my report also indicates, there is strong evidence that this animal was once the man's wife, Maude Sikes."
Skinny moves closer to sit on the edge of his desk. His eyes glance at the report there, then drift back to Agent's Silky's lap. "And you believe that her DNA was modified somehow, to change her into . . . some sort of a she-beast?"
Director Skinny leans to the side just a bit to allow sunlight from the window to fall on where Agent Silky is sitting. Agent Silky responds by parting her thighs just a tiny bit. Just enough, to allow the sun to shine up her skirt and highlight the downy triangle of reddish coloured hair she has up there. Director Skinny's eyes widen slightly at the sight.
"Yes sir. The animal that tried to attack Muddler was the product of some sort of genetic research. As well, the bones we found at the Sike's house, and that had once been human, were also modified genetically."
There's a pause, until Agent Silky closes her thighs and tugs the hem of her skirt back down. Skinny's eyes jump from her crotch to her face. "Good work, Agent Silky. Tell me, what would it take to do genetic research on this scale?"
"At this level of sophistication, it would take a well equipped facility and a highly skilled scientist."
"All right. I want you and Agent Dogged to check out Hammel Labs again. I don't believe those papers found at the Sike's house were just there by accident. My secretary has a file on a Doctor Hastings, who works at that lab. See what you can dig up on him."
He and Agent Silky stand. "Yes sir."
Director Skinny's eyes travel to a cupboard door in the corner of his office. His hand absentmindedly rubs across his bum. Agent Silky also glances towards the cupboard door.
"Will there be anything else, sir?" she says with a slight grin.
Another brief pause. Then, "No. You'd better get busy."
"Perhaps later on then, Deputy Director."
"Yes, Mistress. . . uh, Agent Silky."
The door is answered by a distinguished looking elderly gentleman. His hair is gray, and his face is thin with a somewhat hawkish nose. We see his hand on the doorknob, and his hands look clean and soft. The fingernails are nicely manacured. The door opens to the smiling face of the Smoking Man, standing in the late afternoon sunlight.
"Welcome, my friend," the Well Manacured Man says. "Please, come in."
The Smoking Man drops his cigarette on the front step and crushes it out.
The two men pass through a short hallway and into the front sitting room of the apartment. The room is richly appointed with several comfy chairs and a sofa. On a thick rug before a fireplace, a large, catlike creature languidly looks up at the new arrival. The elderly man glances at the Smoking Man and grins.
"I don't believe you've met Myna. Myna, this is an old friend of mine."
The big cat rises on all fours and sensuously pads towards the Smoking Man. Myna, whose fur is dark with small, lighter spots all over it, lowers her head when she reaches their guest and she gently rubs her body on his legs. She curls herself around to brush harder against The Smoking Man's legs, and he reaches down to pat her flank. The big cat looks up at him with her big, dark green, cat eyes.
"Myna's training was extremely successful," the Well Manacured Man says. He looks down at her and softly commands, "Myna. On the sofa."
The cat turns and heads toward the sofa. She moves with such a smooth and easy grace that her walk appears almost erotic. The cat's furry tail sensuously swishes back and forth, alternately revealing, then hiding, an invitingly softer area of fur between her hind legs.
When Myna reaches the sofa she pauses for a fraction of a second. In a gravity defying motion, her body springs up onto the cushions. She seems to turn, weightless, in mid air, settling herself down, perfectly centered on the cushion and facing the two men. Myna licks her lips and lowers her head.
"Please," the elderly man says, motioning towards the sofa and his pet. "I'll get us some Brandies."
The Smoking Man moves towards the sofa and Myna lifts her head up to watch him. He sits beside the big cat and looks into her eyes. His hand goes to the top of her head and he gives her a scratch. Myna's eyes flutter closed, and she leans her head into the Smoking Man's hand.
The older man hands him a snifter of Brandy, and then he takes a nearby chair. Myna's eyes search those of her master. The older man gives her the permission she seeks, in the form of a tiny nod of his head. Myna shifts her body a bit closer to their guest. The Smoking Man takes a sip of the excellent Brandy, then sets the glass down.
"I believe you said that this one was developed at the Rock Ridge facility," the Smoking Man says. His one arm is around the body of the big cat and his other hand is searching his jacket pocket, presumably for his cigarettes. Myna shifts over a bit and the man's hand comes into contact with one of her fur covered tits. This startles him for a second, and he looks down to where his hand is. His thumb passes gently over Myna's erect nipple, and as it does, she makes a catlike purring sound from deep within her throat. His need for a cigarette temporarily forgotten, the Smoking Man strokes Myna's chest with his hand. He glances up at his host. "She seems to be very responsive."
"Yes, Rock Ridge has had some very impressive results. I've given them the go ahead for fifty more units."
The Smoking Man looks up. Myna, also sensing the change, looks towards her master. "Won't that many disappearances arouse suspicions?"
"Not really," the older man says. "We should only be needing five or six girls for this next batch."
The Smoking Man's eyes grow wide. He begins to smile. "We've decoded the files aboard the ship?"
The Well Manacured Man grins. "There is still much more to learn, but the group working aboard the ship have discovered a documented cloning procedure, as well as a method for speeding up the organism's development."
The Smoking man looks down and into Myna's deep green eyes. "Yes," he says, his head nodding slightly, "this is excellent news." Myna lowers her head to press against his hand.
The Well Manacured Man stands. "Why don't you take Myna upstairs for a while," he says to his friend.
"I'd like that. Are you sure it will be all right?"
"Of course it will. Myna enjoys a regular workout, and, sadly, the years are starting to catch up to me."
Myna is up on her haunches, bright eyes on her master's friend. Her tail is twitching. The Smoking man stands and Myna slips off the sofa to heel beside him.
"Enjoy her, my friend. Now Myna, be nice to our guest."
The big catlike creature lets out a long, loud, purrr, and she and the Smoking Man head upstairs.
On Stakeout: The home of Dr Hastings. Evening.
The view pans from a very ordinary looking house, past the mailbox at the front gate, and up the street a ways to the side of a gray sedan. Fax Muddler is sitting in the passenger side seat crunching sunflower seeds.
Another car pulls up behind the first. Agent Dogged gets out and we see Agent Silky sitting in the car, touching up her makeup. Dogged hitches up his trousers and, looking down, notices that his fly is open. He zips up as he reaches the car. Opening the door, he sits in beside Muddler. "Anything?"
"All quiet on the front," says Muddler, passing over the bag of seeds. John looks at the bag and gives them a pass. Muddler gives a shrug and tosses the bag up on the dash. "Hastings has been home since early this afternoon." Muddler opens his car door but it hits against something. Fax pushes, and there's a rustling sound as the door opens another inch or two. He shoulders the door open.
The view switches to the outside of the car, and we see a huge pile of sunflower seed shells piled against the car door. Muddler forces the door open and he steps out across the pile. "See you in the morning," he says to the grinning Agent Dogged.
Fax Muddler walks around to the driver's side of the other car. Silky turns towards him as he sits down, and her face lights up. As Muddler drives away, we see Agent Silky's head go down out of sight.
We now watch three short sex scenes, done with slow camera pans and fast cuts, and set to the music of Guns and Roses doing the song, Live and Let Die. During the first part, the slow bit, we watch Agent Silky giving Agent Muddler a blow job in the front seat of the car as he's driving. We're treated to some of Silky's playful character as her toungue slowly snakes up and down Muddler's cock. The traffic is heavy, and it's all Fax can do to keep the car in his own lane. A garbage truck pulls up along side the car and the driver does a double take upon seeing Fax, with a red headed woman's face gobbeling his dick while he drives. Fax looks up and sees the truck driver, and also his helper now, leering out the window at him. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. Agent Silky looks up at the two garbage men in the truck, licks her lips, then continues.
The tempo of the song jumps, and we go to Myna and the Smoking Man. Myna is playing the wild cat, and it's all the Smoking Man can do to control her. His arms are extended with his fingers dug into the fur of her shoulders. She swipes a sharp clawed paw at his face, missing hooking his flesh by less than an inch. The Smoking Man rolls her over so he's on top. But she's quick, her body is supple, and her hind legs come up on either side of him with her back claws at his neck. There's a pause, while he asseses the situation. His grip on the cat girl's shoulders ease. His one hand slowly goes to her foot, closing around it, to bring it up to his lips. The Smoking Man softly kisses the furry toes, licking gently between the pads and around her claws while, with his other hand, he unfastens his trousers. Guns and Roses shift into the slow part of the song.
In the final scene, the camera focuses on a window of a brownstone building that could be anywhere. Inside the darkened room is mounted, in the center of the room, a large and substantial Saint Andrews Cross. Strapped to one side of the cross is Deputy Director Skinny, and on the other side, facing him, is his pretty secretary with the long dark hair.
We're treated with some lovely, slow closeups, as the camera drifts around the pair during this slow part of the song. They're both fastened to the cross with leather straps at wrists, waists and ankles. A double ended penis gag joins their mouths together, with straps around each of their heads. They are both staring into each other's wide eyes with a look of excited fear. Skinny's secretary's hair is pinned up on top of her hair.
Walking around behind each of them are two, black leather clad dominatrixes with nasty looking floggers in their hands. The song suddenly kicks into high gear once again, and the two Dommes go to work. Skinny and his secretary are rocked forward by the force of the blows, and they bang foreheads as the penis gag is forced deep into their mouths. Another hard blow to each of their bums makes them strain against their bindings.
The final few bars of the song play from the radio in the car Agent Dogged is sitting in, on stakeout, in front of Dr Hasting's house. John picks up a sunflower seed off the seat beside him and he bites it with his front teeth. He seperates the seed shell with a fingernail and puts the kernel between his teeth, biting it. He licks the salt from his lips. John finds another seed and cracks it open with his teeth. After seperating the shell and eating the seed, he tosses the shells out the window.
** We go to commercial.
Agent John Dogged has Muddler's bag of seeds and he has the rhythm now. Crack! A seed is opened with his front teeth. The kernel is fished out and into his mouth while the shells get tossed out the window. Crack! We watch this seed eating action for several seconds.
A loud bang, and a large animal or creature of some kind has leapt up onto the car hood. It's face, stark against the windshield, shows gleaming fangs and wild, fiery eyes. Dogged jumps with a shower of seeds spilling around him. The animal's head turns as it leaps to the ground and takes off.
John jumps from the car, his feet plowing through the shells on the ground, and he's crouched by a fender with his gun drawn. Peering cautiously over the hood, he sees nothing. Then, movement at the side of the Hasting's house. Agent Dogged investigates.
John crosses the lawn to come up beside the house. At a basement window he pauses. Shadowy movement inside the basement draws his attention. He bends to look. We see, through the dusty window, a woman look up. A glimmer of light off a chain. Then, a shadow comes up behind Agent Dogged and a two-by-four comes down. Wham! Over his head. Agent Dogged slumps to the ground, unconscious.
Fax Muddler unlocks his apartment door at four AM. Inside, on the floor, is a brown envelope. He picks it up and closes the door. Sitting on his sofa he opens the envelope and spreads it's contents upon the coffee table.
There's a clipping from a newspaper from Elm Creek, a little town in southern Manitoba. The Paper is dated from eighteen years ago, and the headline tells of a small plane that went down in a field to the West of town. The article goes on to tell of other planes that have crashed, or have had navigation system problems over or near the area. There is speculation of UFO activity, and the article is accompanied by the usual blurry picture of a possible space craft, but that could really be of anything.
Another photograph shows a white dome type tent like structure over a low area of ground. Two trees on a small hill appear to look very similar to ones shown in the UFO picture, indicating that the tent could be in the same place. Fax Muddler stares back and forth at the two pictures. He then gets up, grabs his jacket off the armchair, and leaves his apartment.
Agent Muddler is downstairs and he's on his cell phone while he's unlocking his car.
"Silky? It's Muddler. I may have a lead on our extra terrestrial DNA. Pack a bag, I'm coming to pick you up. We're taking a trip to Canada."
Pink Floyd, playing Comfortably Numb, rolls from the car speakers while we watch several short scenes from the long trip. The highway rolls by as trucks pass, the white line blinks hypnotically. Agents Muddler and Silky cross into Canada at an unmanned border crossing. They stop for gas, and Muddler buys a bag of sunflower seeds.
Exiting off the paved road, Muddler drives between fields of wheat. Another turn, then another, and Muddler noses the car off the side of the road and against a small grassy mound. He and Silky get out of the sunflower seed shell littered car. The two agents climb the hill.
We see Agent Silky's back as she makes the top, then, the view across fields of golden wheat. A few hundred yards away the crops yield to the white dome like structures. Muddler spits out a few shells, then glances at Silky. "This is it."
Muddler and Silky descend from the low hill to follow along between rows of high wheat. The rows of grain mostly go straight, except for when they curve, following the contour of the land. Soon we see, up ahead, the edge of the dome. Muddler turns to Silky who's walking in the row next to him. Just then, Agent Silky seems to stumble, and with a small shriek she drops down out of sight.
"I'm here, Muddler." Her voice drifts up from inside the hole. Agent Muddler steps through the grain to peer down at her. Agent Silky looks up at him as a reddish flush begins to spread on her face. "Whew!" Silky reaches out to the side to steady herself.
"What is it?" asks Muddler.
Silky looks around her. "I'm not sure. Whoah!" Her eyes close and she sways unsteadily on her feet.
"Hang on," Muddler says. "I'm coming down."
Agent Fax Muddler drops down into the hole beside Silky. The hole is a tunnel that stretches off in the direction of the dome like structures. Muddler looks at Silky who glances back at him.
"Yes. I'm alright."
A black car pulls up beside the entrance to the white dome structure. The Smoking Man gets out. Standing beside his car, he looks up, raises his cigarette to his lips, and takes a long drag. The smoke escapes between his thin lips in a dense cloud. The Smoking Man moves toward the entrance to the dome.
A guard greets him outside the door. The guard nods towards the Smoking Man's cigarette. The Smoking Man drops his cigarette down on the dirt and crushes it. He eyes the guard, who then opens the door for him. The Smoking Man enters the structure. Once inside, he finds his pack of Morlys, shakes one out, and lights it. He takes a deep drag while surveying the scene inside the dome.
A ramp leads down into an excavation in the center of the dome. Carts and racks hold equipment that's set up in a circle around a smaller, shiny metal dome on the ground inside the excavation. Wires and cables snake from the equipment to this smaller dome, disappearing inside through an opening on top. A man with a white coat climbs up through the hatch and sees the Smoking Man. He makes his way up from the excavation to the top of the ramp where he's standing. The man hands some papers to him. "We've made some progress on these four remaining symbols," he says.
The Smoking Man looks over the papers. "How soon before we power up the system?"
"It's risky still. There's much we do not know."
"All the more reason to restart the main computer. It's vital that we learn it's secrets."
Another man in a white coat is seen climbing out of the excavation. We see that it's Dr Hastings. The Smoking Man sees him as he passes by, but says nothing. He returns his attention to the papers he's holding. Finally, he hands them back to the first man.
"Keep me informed. Our group cannot wait much longer. We need to restore the ship's power soon."
"We'll be ready, Sir."
Agents Muddler and Silky travel a short way along the tunnel before coming upon another tunnel, branching off in a downward direction. Slight wisps of steam roll up from the opening, and when Agent Silky looks down, she almost tumbles in. Muddler catches hold of her arm.
"Silky, what is it?"
"It's. . . I suddenly feel like I really need a fuck!"
"There's something down there that's drawing me forward, and it's making me feel really really horny!"
"Well let's check it out!"
The two agents make their way down the low tunnel, and soon come to some sort of metal opening, or hatch, set into the earth. Beyond the opening an eerie greenish light can be seen, and wisps of steam occasionally drift out. Muddler finds ladder like rungs set into the wall and he climbs down past the hatch. Silky follows.
Agents Muddler and Silky come out on a narrow catwalk. They both pause to look around in amazement. The camera pans back and around, and we see the interior of a huge alien spaceship. Open walkways cross a vast central core. Enclosed passageways lead off from the central area. There are numerous levels, and every direction seems to lead off into infinity.
Muddler points down and to the left, where there is a conveyor arrangement that is transporting long bundles of something off into one of the passageways. He looks to Silky who's gripping the handrail tightly while she's cumming hard. She lets out a shuddering groan and opens her eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh yeah," she purrs. "I'm great!"
"Come on." Muddler heads towards a ladder leading down.
"I'm cumming," Dianna murmurs.
As Muddler passes some large, tube shaped protrusions set into a wall, he stops and wipes off the moisture covering the front. Inside, suspended in a greenish liquid, and surrounded by wires and tubes, is the form of an alien creature. Muddler draws back in surprise. Agent Silky peers into the tube, and she too looks away in horror.
"Oh my God!" She exclaims. "What is this?"
Muddler moves to another of the tubes and he looks into that one. There's another creature inside it, too. Agent Silky wipes at the condensation lower down on the tube and she grins. The alien inside has an enormous phallus. Muddler gives her a look, then moves towards the ladder.
The two agents carefully climb down on the seemingly endless ladder like structure. Agent Silky has to stop every so often as a cum rips though her body. By the time they reach the area of the conveyor device, Silky is moving like an automaton and her breathing is fast and irregular. Muddler takes hold of her to help her off the ladder and onto a catwalk. They both pause to catch their breath.
A large capsule rolls silently out from a passageway and stops near the beginning of the conveyor system. With a hiss of air, the top of the capsule raises. Mechanical arms lower, and reach in, to lift the contents of the capsule. Agent Muddler nudges Silky. They both look, to see Agent John Dogged being lifted out of the capsule and onto the conveyor device.
Ducking low, Muddler quickly moves towards the conveyor. He reaches Agent Dogged just before his body is swung out into the open center of the ship, and he pulls Agent Dogged off the conveyor. Muddler rips free the tubes and wires attached to Dogged and he eases him down to the catwalk. Agent Silky joins them.
Muddler starts pumping Dogged's chest, performing CPR, while Agent Silky checks for vital signs. After a few moments, Dogged starts coughing up a greenish liquid. He coughs and coughs, a deep barking cough. Finally, he's able to sit up against the wall.
"What happened?" asks Muddler.
"I'm not sure," replies Agent Dogged. "I was watching Dr. Hasting's house, and I thought I saw something. When I went to check it out: Bam! Something hit me. Next thing I know, I wake up here. What is this place?" Agent Dogged looks around.
"I think that this is the Mother ship." Doggged gives Muddler a skeptical glance. "These tubes along the walls," Muddler points them out, "are occupied by aliens."
"You gotta be kidding me." Agent Dogged sees Agent Silky on her knees on the catwalk with her eyes tightly shut. He and Muddler watch as Silky is taken through a massive orgasm. Her groans echo back to them from the far away ceiling of the ship. Finally, her breathing slows and her eyes flutter open. Agent Dogged turns to Muddler. "What's up with her?"
"Something in the ship is affecting her," says Muddler. "It seems to be making her cum all the time."
"It has to be something in the air," suggests Agent Silky. "It could be. . . could be something like. . . pheromones affecting. . . affect. . . . Oh! Oh! Oh! Oooohhggggh!"
"We'd better get out of here," says Muddler.
The two men help a trembling Agent Silky to her feet and they start for the ladder. Along the way they come to an enclosed area with what look to be control panels mounted to the walls. Muddler stops to investigate. He tries a few random codes on what could be a door keypad, and the panel slides open.
Inside the enclosed area are many buttons and lights and displays. All of the markings are in no known language. Muddler's hand strays to a console and he taps a few keys. A ding is heard and the room brightens.
"Maybe one of these switches controls an elevator," he says.
Muddler presses another button and steam starts spraying out from around a control box. "Whoops!" Muddler and the other two agents hurriedly leave the room.
Out on the open catwalks, the lighting seems brighter and more yellowish in colour. There can also be heard, and felt, a low rumbling vibration. Agent Silky pauses for a moment with her back pressed against a wall. She tilts her hips back to push harder against it, and with a loud moan and a grin, she cums. Dogged takes her arm and turns to Muddler.
"We'd better haul ass out of here. Whatever you did back there, I don't think we've got a lot of time left."
"Well what do you think's gonna happen?"
"I don't know about you, but I ain't sticking around to find out."
Agent Dogged drags Silky away from the vibrating wall she's got herself pressed against. He propells her towards a ladder, but finds she's too far gone to climb. So Agent Dogged hoists Silky up over his shoulder, and then starts up the ladder. Muddler brings up the rear.
Pandemonium has broken out upstairs in the white dome over the ship. Men in white coats are pouring out of the hatch and running in all directions. Equipment racks topple over sending sparks flying. Bursts of steam spout from the ship's hatch, and vent from cracks in the ground around it. Outside, the Smoking Man drops his cigarette on the ground and steps on it. He gets into his car, and drives off.
Inside the ship, the three agents struggle to reach the top catwalk. Occasionally a loud bang shakes the ship and the ladder they're climbing. Twice, Dogged, with Agent Silky over his shoulders, is almost shaken off the ladder. Eventually though, they reach the top.
As they make their way along the upper passageway, Agent Dogged glances at the tubes lining the walls. Inside each of the tubes, the alien creature within is thrashing wildly about. Then, as Muddler passes a tube, the alien inside one of the tubes smashes through the outer glass like cover. It's bony mis-shapen hand closes about Muddler's throat. He lets out a strangled yell.
Agent Dogged, his gun drawn, turns and fires. His shot severs the creature's arm at the elbow. Muddler peels the creature's fingers from around his neck and he tosses the remains of the arm aside.
"Thanks!" says Muddler.
"Let's go," Dogged says.
Along the passageway and the three agents find the tube that leads outside. Agent Silky is still unconscious, passed out over Dogged's shoulders, so he has to haul both himself, and her, up the steeply inclined ladder. Muddler goes first and, at the top, he helps lift Silky up through the hatch. Then the agents scramble along the tunnel towards the opening and out.
Once they reach the fresh air and sunlight, Agent Silky begins to come around. She's able to scramble along between the two men as they run through the wheat field and towards the hill where Muddler parked the car. But when they reach the hill, a violent earth tremor knocks the agents sprawling. The entire field of wheat begins to lift up, showering them with plants and clumps of dirt. The agents scramble higher up towards the top of the low hill.
As the huge ship rises, dirt falls away to reveal the gleaming metal of the hull. It's like an immense building rising up from the earth, as the ship breaks free of the ground that has imprisoned it for some hundreds of thousands of years. The bottom of the ship comes into view, and the light from the drives is blinding. The three agents shield their eyes. The ship banks off to the right, gains a bit more altitude, then suddenly slides away into the distance. Agents Muddler, Silky and Dogged are left staring at one another.
F.B.I Building, Washington, D.C. 10:45 AM.
Deputy Director Skinny's head peers around a doorway, and he calls to Silky, who's sitting on a wooden bench in the hallway. "Agent Silky? They're ready for you now."
Silky enters the room and takes a seat before a panel of five men. She glances over at Muddler and Dogged, sitting off to one side. She faces forward again, as the interrogation begins.
"State your full name."
"You claim that you were aboard an alien spacecraft. Have you any proof of this?"
"Agent Muddler was attacked by an alien aboard the ship. Proof?"
"DNA tests. We found no records of any reported unusual DNA tests."
"No evidence of bones with modified DNA."
"No evidence to back any of this up."
Agent Silky looks towards Agent Muddler who simply shrugs. Afterwards, outside the hearing room, Muddler tells her, "They're going to bury this, Silky. Just like all the other xx-files. Whenever something doesn't fit their idea of the way the world should be, they want to bury it."
"Somebody wants to keep this one buried, Muddler, that's for sure. Somebody that's pretty high up, too."
Six weeks later: Rock Ridge Research facility.
A long, gray metal box is removed from a wall safe. The box has strange symbols on the top cover. The box is placed on a table, and two men move closer to it. One of the men, is the Cigarette Smoking Man.
The other man, a scientist, moves the catches on the sides of the box and the cover rolls back with a thump and a hiss. Inside, nestled in padded indentations, lay four glass vials.
Each vial is half full of a dull, brownish liquid. Small lumps of some gray substance can be seen floating inside. The Smoking man lifts one vial up to the light. He gives it a shake, then looks again. Then, he sets the glass vial down on the table and, frowning, he turns to go.
In a richly appointed apartment bedroom, an elderly man, and a middle aged woman sit side by side on the bed. The man's hair is gray and his nose is rather hawkish. His fingernails are clean and nicely shaped. The woman's skin is somewhat gray looking, and she seems frail and sickly. On the bed around her can be seen clumps of a dark coloured hair or fur. The man places his hand on her leg and softly calls her name. "Myna."
Jennifer wakens to sunlight streaming through the open bedroom window. She moves the covers aside and looks down at her body. She's naked in bed, and there are a few clumps of fur scattered on the mattress around her. She runs her hands over her skin to gather up a few more tufts of hair. Then, standing, she crosses to the mirror.
Jennifer stands upright before the full length mirror. It's been four and a half weeks since she'd begun to change back from the catlike creature she was, to the human girl she'd been before Dr Hastings and Hammel labs got hold of her. Jennifer sees that the change is almost complete.
Since her escape from the Hammel Labs truck, Jennifer has been hiding out with Bill Boggs, at his cabin in the woods. She has no idea what triggered her changing back from cat girl to human. She knows nothing of the alien ship's leaving the planet, or of it's influence in keeping the DNA strands she'd been injected with alive inside her body. But as her hands glide down her tummy and reach her thighs, she knows that she's Ok now.
Bill Boggs enters the room and stands behind her. "Morning, Sunshine," he says to her. Jennifer turns and moves towards him. He places his hands on her shoulders and stares into her eyes. Then, the two embrace.
(C) Dino Dave June 2002