I'm in a store, this is probably the best-case scenario apart from a remote island or the president's bunker. I need to take inventory.
My first stop is the food sections. The shelves are stocked with dry foods that should last a while, but our restock was scheduled for a couple days from now so it's a little lighter than usual.
I wouldn't bet on that truck making it here by Monday.
I'm more so concerned with the refrigerated section.
With all those people gone, all the jobs are unattended. Electricity is no longer a guarantee and I need to prioritize these perishables first if I'm going to make it. While I don't like the idea of going heavy on dairy, it's the smartest thing to do calorically. Close to the food is an assortment of water bottles. These are always stocked full and it's a more confident supply. Water is also replenishable, assuming it rains.
Feeling slightly better from taking note of resources, I decided to lay down and let my mind process the past ten minutes of my life. I visit the linen section and pull down a few blankets and pillows, and drop them near the back of the store away from the windows. I even grab a long mirror and place it nearby to make it feel more homely. The glass door is still visible, but the distance and extra objects in between feels safer than before.
Trying to sleep, I feel a sudden wetness on my pillow. I didn't even notice that I was crying when I pulled my head up. The stress in my body reached a limit and I've been acting on adrenaline. Now that I'm laying down, my true emotions are coming through.
Did my parents make it? Is the military going to shoot down those balloons full of people? Did I leave home for the last time this morning?
My spiraling thoughts cause me to fall asleep without noticing.
The bed feels...denser. The sheets don't smell like the detergent I use. The pillow sounds crackly as I shift around.
These are my thoughts upon waking. I thought it was a bad dream, that I'd be in my bed at 7am like always. My eyes adjust and I'm met with the dreary floor of a dollar store and metal shelves. The lights above hum and give me slight vertigo. I move my legs and feel the pressure points that were on the cold, vinyl floor. My body aches and I don't know why, and then it hits me. The nightmare, it's real.
I shot up and reassessed. Everything is how I left it, the world is how I left it. I searched for my phone, 11:27am, same day. I slept for 3 hours on the floor and nothing has changed, not even a message from my family or boss or anything. I feel the urge to cry again but then I look outside.
It is hard to tell from the back of the store but there is something in the streets, covering it like a weed. Crawling towards the window, the image becomes clear. Pink vines are spreading across the streets in thin tendrils. They wind up stop signs, dipped into manhole covers, weave into abandoned cars, and lightly cover the ground. Clearly, they are very thin cousins of the flying octopus. Almost speaking aloud, I cover my mouth in fear. The first movement I saw in hours, but it was something out of a nightmare.
Lumbering into the middle of the road is a pink, two-legged creature. Its appendages appear to be made of those same vines but much thicker and more animated. The tentacles bend at the base to form a foot shape, and then continue up what would be considered legs. The tentacles suddenly transition into human flesh, as a young, naked woman is lodged into the mass of tentacles. I watch in horror as this woman jiggles with every step of her captor.
The woman's legs are individually trapped inside the tentacle thighs, all the way up to her hips. Fleshy masses avoid the front of her torso but grow along her entire back past her head. What used to be long hair in a ponytail is now a disheveled mess, covered in slime that darkens her light brown hair and a hair tie barely holding on. Her arms are held firmly to the left and right of her head, making a 90-degree bend at the elbows. The tentacles in that area take on the appearance of broad shoulders, where her fists exist in the spherical masses. Two arms on each side extend from those masses, aimlessly probing the environment. Her head nestles into the mass of tentacles, with one around her throat to keep her in place.
A massive tentacle the size of an eggplant plugs her esophagus. It clearly courses with the same orange fluid from before, supplied by a very large, blister-like sac positioned directly behind her head on the back of the creature. A thick tentacle runs from the sac, above the creature, bends downward, and terminates inside the woman's mouth. Her head bobs forwards and backwards to suckle the invader, a motion that appears to be unaided by the tentacles. So much is being fed to her that the slime constantly drips down her chin and splatters onto her huge E cups. Her breasts are engulfed by tentacles with clear bulbs on the end, being rhythmically milked in synchronization with the creature's steps. It takes an awkward step forward, gives the woman three or four powerful sucks, and delivers impossible amounts of milk fresh from her tits to a secondary sac on the creature's back. This sac is positioned below the first and filled exclusively with a thinner, white liquid. Every step causes her mounds jiggle, dampened by the milkers affixed to and almost supporting them. I can't tell if her chest is thrust out because of her restrictions or her own free will, but she seems to lean into the milking process.
Suddenly, the woman began to spasm violently. The creature doubles its efforts, as the milking intensifies with more movement and her mouth and throat visibly expand because of a surge of orange goo. It's then I notice what is happening down below, a tentacle emotionlessly pounds her pussy. It is also the size of an eggplant and it thrusts in deep and hard. This display continues for about 10 seconds until the woman arches her back, screams into her tentacle, and slumps down. The tentacles in her mouth and pussy go completely stiff as spurts of orange slime drip from her holes. Her abdomen began to expand as the fluid filled her from both sides.
Her stomach slowly fills as the reservoir of mystery fluid on its upper back emptied at the same rate. Everything remains motionless, except for the transfer of volume from the sac to the woman's abdomen, the milk flowing from her tits to the lower sac, and the occasional twitch in her fleshy prison. She takes on about two-thirds the volume before her body rejects the sudden tidal wave of sex fluid, spraying from both sets of lips at a high pressure. The tentacle humanoid seems to recognize this and reduces the flow, with the tentacles reducing in diameter. The immense pressure and reduction in tentacle circumference cause even more of the orange fluid to spill out, I can hear it drench the concrete from where I am hiding. The tentacle in her mouth never fully retreats, almost as if she could breathe the entire time. The one in her pussy remains in place as well, in fact, it begins to slowly fuck her. The woman looks 7 months pregnant now, her belly is full and jiggles similar to her tits, which I swear looks a little bigger since I first started watching.
She is still unconscious, hanging limply against her bonds. The appendages resume the status quo, whatever the hell that means. Her milker tentacles collect a donation every step, and her throat and pussy tentacles relentlessly pump in and out. The creature begins shifting flesh around, sprouting tentacles from around her waist. They snake under her newly acquired abdomen and merge with the pink mass on the opposite side, effectively creating a strap to hold her extra weight. Seemingly satisfied with its craftsmanship, a new process begins with the liquids. The breast milk sac drains, but there is no overflow from her orifices that indicate the fluid is given back to her. The upper sac then grows in size, about a third as quickly as the milk empties. In no time at all, most of her milk appears to convert into the orange substance, allowing the storage on its back to refill about three quarters full. The milk sac wastes no time in slowly regenerating either, as the constant supply of milk never ceases for a moment.
The woman stirs in her bondage, her eyes widening at the sight of her new form. There is a slight sign of struggle, but it quickly fades as she returns to a compliant demeanor. She activates her core muscles to reposition herself, leaning back into her tentacle warden instead of limply hanging forward. This is met with an extra tentacle or two wrapping around her, to secure her where she wants to be. Her cheeks balloon out as a spurt of orange fluid flows past her drunken smile and splatters everywhere. Since there is nowhere else it could go, it rains on her milker bulbs and her pregnant form instead.
Satisfied with the exchange, the tentacle mass takes heaping steps. It is less clumsy than before, but it still causes the woman's assets to wildly jiggle with every movement. She didn't seem to mind though as there was absolutely no struggle. She resumes her absentminded suckling and bucking until the pair are out of sight.
I hide in complete horror at what I just witnessed. I hold back any crying because that thing would hear me.
Is that what happened to all those people? Or are these the stragglers, like me? Will I ever be able to leave this store again?
I sat in a cold sweat for what felt like hours, the hum of the lights did not help in easing my emotions. I look out the window, and no more of those things are around.
What do you even call something that looks and acts like that?
Naming the zombie-apocalypse-tentacle-sex-dairy-monster didn't matter, I realize that I'm here for the long haul and I need to start acting like it.
There's no way I'm going outside, not if those things can catch you. I need to fortify
.
It's been a few days since witnessing that thing take her away.
Take her, Taker, hmm that could be a good one. Ok, where was I?
There have not been any more sightings of monsters, just the progressive infection of the city. Those thin vines got longer and thicker by the day, and some are even oozing a mucus or slime substance that covers the ground in a viscous, orange goop. I dare not touch it, but it looks like I may be snowed in at some point if I'm not careful.
