Touch of the Infinite

"Hey man, are you gonna order something or what...?"

The sound of the waitress's voice seemed to reach Ash from a great distance, dragging him suddenly back into reality, breaking the spell of the vision that had assaulted his mind and body...

As he shook his head, blinking and trying to clear away the confusion, Ash expected to hear the liquid darkness that had been pumped into his head swishing around in his skull... But he didn't.

Fuck, had it all just been a hallucination? It felt so real...

The prayer book lay face down on the table where he had dropped it and Ash thanked the universe for small favors -- he wouldn't have to explain the frontispiece illustration to the waitress.

"What?" Ash blinked again, his head was still swimming and he was having trouble properly gripping to reality, the memories of the vision threatening to overtake him again, pushing at the edges of his perception like an incoming tide. "Yeah, sorry I..." Damn it, he'd come here a million times and suddenly, he couldn't remember a single fucking thing on the menu.

"I'll just take a coffee -- black -- for now..."

The waitress pursed her lips, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you okay? You seem a bit... off."

Ash nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't get a chance to eat at work, must be the low blood sugar making me space out."

The waitress narrowed her eyes, staring at him for a long moment, seemingly scrutinizing everything about him -- probably trying to figure out if he was high or tripping or something other than having a blood sugar crash.

Ash wanted to believe that's what had happened. That he'd had a hallucination of some kind because he hadn't eaten that day -- that looking at the book had influenced it but now that he was starting to come fully into reality again...

He couldn't ignore the soreness and wetness between his thighs or the way his insides ached, or the painful emptiness that he felt, his cunt and ass and throat remembering just how full they had been -- and just how pleasurable that had felt...

Somehow, it had been real. It had really happened, even though no one else could see it.

"...All right, I'll be back in a few minutes with that coffee then... " She said, nudging the menu towards him.

He could tell she didn't completely believe him but as long as she didn't call the cops or something, it would be fine. He didn't really care if some random waitress thought he was a tweaked out stoner or whatever, it was fine.

Of course, it wasn't fine.

Ash felt his stomach begin to sink and nausea rise up in his throat like acid as the realization of what had happened dawned on him.

Oh God...

It had been inside of him! It had made him beg for it to fuck him -- it had been inside of his fucking skull! He had been raped by some fucking thing! Some thing he couldn't name or even imagine had violated him! And he'd never even had... He'd never had anything inside of him other than silicone or his own fingers.

Ash was starting to shake as a cold sweat broke out all over his body, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. His fingers trembled and tears stung at the corners of his eyes, making the world go blurry. Oh God! What the fuck had it even been!?

None of what had happened was even remotely possible -- there was no way something to push itself inside of his head like that! But despite knowing this, despite knowing that something made of dripping darkness couldn't possibly have shoved its fat tendrils into his ears and brainfucked him into oblivion...

He knew that exactly that had happened. Ash could almost still feel the way it had filled him up, could almost still feel it pistoning into his skull...

The nausea churned in his stomach and his head started to spin -- dizziness came in sharp waves, making him blink and sway in his seat. Dread, disgust and horror settled over Ash like a blanket and worst of all, those memories caused heat to blossom between his thighs.

He needed to get away from here. Now.

He needed to get somewhere safe -- somewhere that thing couldn't find him again, somewhere away from that fucking book!

Ash tried to get to his feet, desperate to escape from the place he had been violated by the very darkness itself, but his legs gave out beneath him and his knees buckled. Panic surged in him, hitting him like a truck. His pulse pounded in his ears, a beat of fear and desperation that tried to drive him onward.

He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white, and tried to stand again. He felt like he was going to puke but he couldn't stay there. He needed to leave, he needed to get away. On shaky feet, his hands still pressed to the surface of the table, Ash tried to make his way out of the booth.

And all at once, Ash doubled over, gagging and heaving, tears springing up in his eyes as the nausea overwhelmed him. He tried not to throw up, tried to keep the rising acid and god only knew what else in his stomach from escaping but it didn't work.

The bile rose in his throat and Ash couldn't stop the flood of thick, black sludge that poured from his mouth and splattered on the pale yellow linoleum floor. There was that taste again -- charcoal and sulfur and sickly, saccharine sweetness.

No! No! Oh God --

CRASH!

Black coffee was spreading out in a puddle across the floor -- the waitress had dropped the plate and mug she had brought him. She cried out in shock.

"OH MY GOD!" She rushed over to him, placing her warm hands on his shoulders. Was he really that cold? "Sit back down! We've gotta call an ambulance, we've got to-- "

With strength he didn't know he had, adrenaline now rushing through his veins, Ash shoved her away, shaking his head. "NO!" He rasped. He couldn't stay here, not where that book was, not where... "I can't--"

Ash bolted from the diner before she could stop him. There was nothing a doctor could do anyway. This wasn't...He wasn't ill. This was something far worse.

With every step, his legs shook and threatened to give out beneath him. With every step, nausea rolled over Ash's body in waves, but that adrenaline rush kept him upright, kept him moving... At least until he stumbled into his apartment.

Ash's body almost gave out the instant he got the door closed behind him and he fell back against the door jamb, slamming his shoulder into it with a sharp pain that felt almost like it was happening to someone else.

It didn't matter.

He was safe here. There were seals and wards set up all over his apartment, designed over the years by himself and his mother, drawing from every magical tradition he could get his hands on... And nothing could get in, at least, not unless he invited it.

Ash tried to keep the sobs lodged in his throat at bay but he could still hear its voice inside of his head, he could still feel it squirming inside of him and his body continued to respond with arousal to the memory -- calling out for that thing to come back and fill it again.

Another draught of that thick, black sludge came up from Ash's throat, leaving a puddle of it on his floor, sinking slowly into the spaces between the wooden floorboards. It didn't even smell like stomach acid and his throat didn't burn. It was nothing more than the scent of sulfur and charcoal.

He couldn't deny it now -- even if he had been forced to confront the reality of it before, he might've been able to eventually convince himself it had just been a hallucination... But there was physical evidence. Physical evidence that another human being had seen and reacted to.

It wasn't a hallucination. It hadn't been his imagination. He made a few weak steps further into the apartment before the adrenaline rush left him completely, robbing him of what little strength he had left.

He collapsed, sprawling out onto the floor, barely missing the puddle of black slime. The sobs that had been caught in his throat this entire time finally broke free as he started to cry, trembling and wracked with nausea and terror...

--- x x x ---

It's impossible to tell when he fell asleep -- but it must have happened at some point as Ash opens his eyes to find himself still laying on the living room floor, feeling as if hours had passed.

Oh fuck, his head is pounding. His eyes and throat both burn and his sinuses were swollen and stuffy... For a moment, he can't figure out why but the thick black puddle on the floor in front of him quickly brings the memories to the forefront of his mind: the crying, the puking, the laying curled up on the floor, wishing he could die...

All of it is painfully clear now and he wishes that it weren't.

It's dark, the light in the living room was turned off -- had he forgotten to hit the switch when he'd come in? Everything before throwing up on his apartment floor felt hazy and distant, so he can't be sure but... Something about that doesn't quite feel right.

Still, the darkness doesn't feel threatening, it doesn't feel watchful. It's just the mundane darkness of his apartment with the lights turned off. There's no sign that the thing he'd seen that morning was anything more than his imagination getting carried away in his sleep deprived state.

Ash pushes himself up off the floor and into a sitting position, stretching his tired body out as he did, rolling his head from side to side and pulling in a deep breath. When he gets to his feet, his legs don't shake anymore -- and the soreness between his thighs seems to have disappeared as well. The pain in his head feels distant and his body feels almost weightless. It barely even feels like his feet are touching the floor.

The realization comes quickly: he hadn't woken up yet. This is a dream. He must still be asleep on the living room floor.

'Well,' he thought, 'at least it's not that lightless void.'

The curtains are open but the blinds are still closed -- slivers of the night sky visible in the cracks between them. A night sky which looks surprisingly bright, given how dark it is in his apartment.

Ash walks towards the window, with slow and languid movements that feel much more akin to drifting through water than walking, another hallmark of his dreams.

Maybe it was because he was almost always aware that he was dreaming but Ash had never been disturbed by the strange logic or sensations of dreams, finding them almost fascinating. Tonight is no different. At least, not yet.

When Ash looks out through the blinds, his eyes catch first on the dark shadow of the Appalachian foothills, rising up all around the town of Shady Glen. Groves of skeletal trees reach up towards the star-studded sky above them, swaying slightly as though caught in a gentle breeze... That sky is filled with more stars than Ash had ever seen in his life, save for maybe a few times when he and his mother had been high in the Rocky Mountains, where the air was so clear and the sky was so close that he'd felt he could reach up and touch it...

They flicker and blink, sparkling against a night sky the color of red wine. He tries to pick out the familiar constellations of the winter sky but none of them are there, the stars are arranged in strange patterns that are utterly incomprehensible and alien to him. Still, they're stunningly beautiful and for a long moment, Ash cannot take his eyes off of them. They almost seem to sing, calling out to him in voices that exist on the very edge of his hearing, in a language that exists just beyond the edge of his understanding.

With how bright the sky had looked between his blinds, Ash had expected a wintry landscape covered in thick blankets of snow and a sky covered over with thick gray clouds... But, it is a dream after all, he can't be too surprised if things aren't quite the same as reality.

Eventually, Ash casts his eyes to the city of Shady Glen, expecting lights and movement on the street below. But everything is dark and even though he can make out the details of every building in sight, it's entirely empty. Devoid of even the smallest sign of life beyond himself.

Everything around him is utterly silent -- not even the breeze that stirred the branches of the trees could be heard outside of his window. The only sound that exists is the soft thumping of Ash's heart inside of his chest...

He's had worse dreams, this one is just... a little bit lonely, truth be told.

That silence is broken by a faint, rising hum. It's quiet but despite that, Ash feels it vibrating down into the very core of his being. The night sky is torn apart by the dancing lights of the Aurora Borealis, streaking through the darkness in shades of violet, red and vibrant pink.

In the waking world, Shady Glen is a bit too far south to get the Northern Lights, especially at this brightness and clarity...

Ash watches the lights with rapt attention as they spread across the sky, blocking out the unfamiliar constellations. The lights seem to split as though rent into tatters by giant claws and darkness began to spill from the tattered lights, spreading across the sky in ripples as it oozed forth.

There is something horrible in that darkness. Something that Ash cannot see but whose presence he could feel intimately, that sends shivers of fear down his spine and sets every hair on end and turns his skin to gooseflesh.

The hum is growing louder still and the red light of those false Northern Lights grows ever brighter between the puddles of velvet darkness. The presence reaches out of him -- it calls to Ash in a language that he doesn't hear but rather, feels. His body keens for it, his very essence returning the call with a desperate longing. He recognizes this presence, he remembers it from earlier that night.

With a sudden start, Ash stumbles back from the window, a scream caught in the back of his throat as panic begins to take hold. He shakes his head. No. No! It can't be here! Not in his apartment, not...

No, no. It's just a dream. It's not real.

Even those nightmares of the endless void had been possible to escape once he had realized they were dreams. He can wake up at any time he wants.

He only needs to think the words and he'll find himself back in the real world, safe in his apartment where he belonged.

"Okay, it's time to wake up..." Ash says, his voice quavering.

Nothing happens. He doesn't bolt awake. He doesn't find himself back in his apartment. Ash is still there -- still staring out his window, bathed in eerie red light.

His heart begins to pound. His breath comes in gasps. His head spins. He's trapped. He can't be trapped!

"Come on!" Ash cries, voice rising with his growing panic. "Wakeupwakeupwakeup!" The words blend together, his voice breaking in desperation.

White hot, searing pain like a knife stabs into Ash's abdomen. He doubles over, crying out in agony. He's never hurt like this in his life. It's like something is tearing into his guts, ripping him apart and splaying him open... And then the muscles contract, pulling tight. This isn't the faint shadow of dream-pain that Ash is used to. This is horrifyingly real. He screams.

The sharpness of the pain causes him to dry heave, his whole body shaking as wave after wave of agony crashes into him.

Ash clutches at his belly, fingers digging into the flesh as though he could dig it out with his fingers and make it stop... He barely even feels his nails as they tear into the skin.

"WAKE UP!" Ash screams.

Heat spreads through his body -- concentrated in his lower belly and in his chest, little pools of heat that circle his nipples and follow the thin line of his hysterectomy scar...

A brilliant red light floods the room now -- shining out from the spaces between Ash's blinds. He stumbles back another step, whimpering.

He trips over his own feet, crashing to the floor again and the sudden burst of pain makes everything in his stomach come rushing up, bursting out from between Ash's closed lips and splattering all over the floor. It's that thick, black ichor again.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why can't he wake up!? What the fuck is going on?'

The pain slams into him again and Ash bites down hard on his lower lip, trying to keep from screaming. His fingers dig down deep into the flesh as the jolts of agony just keep coming... And with every jolt, with every contraction, Ash feels his belly begin to swell beneath his fingers -- it feels hot and heavy and it grows hotter with each fresh wave of pain...

And the heat that pools in his chest grows as well... Ash shakes his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Nonononononono --"

No, this can't be happening!

But where his chest had been flat before, there is now the unmistakable swell of breasts, even larger than they had been before his surgery. His shirt is stretched tight, his nipples straining against the fabric, dark stains spreading out from them as they leaked milk.

Ash digs his nails into his belly, pushing his shirt up, feeling something stir inside of him -- something is moving inside of him, and drags them across the flesh. He has to get it out! He can't let this happen to him! Sobs rip themselves from his lips as he desperately claws at his skin, trying to tear through it, trying to get at whatever is growing inside of him.

But he can't make it stop. His belly continues to swell, rounding out more and more and his breasts rest on its upper curve.

Ash has never felt terror like this in his life -- because he can't wake up. He's never been trapped in a nightmare like this before... And if he can't wake up then... Maybe it's not...

The thing inside of Ash reaches out, stretching itself and pushing against the inside of his body and he screams as its fingers become visible through the paper-thin flesh. His breasts are still leaking and still swelling, beginning to feel more like udders than anything else as the milk streams down from them and over his belly.

It's completely impossible to deny what's happened to him now, what's happening to him -- with the lactation, with the human-shaped thing squirming and writhing inside of him...

He's very, very pregnant.

"PLEASE!" Ash rasps between his terrified screams and helpless waves of pain. "WAKE UP!"

A great pressure grows inside of him, his belly so swollen and round and covered in thin, branching stretch marks and deep scratches that Ash can't believe it hasn't just burst. Is it going to burst? Will that thing inside of him just keep growing until it tears its way out of him like a horror movie?

The squirming and fluttering inside of him quickens, whatever creature has been implanted in Ash's womb is flailing, seemingly every bit as desperate to escape from him as he is to have it out of him.

Hopelessly, he claws at it again and even the pain of his torn muscles can't drown out the sensation of his nails ripping through his skin. Blood drips down the sides of his belly now and he can't stop.

He has to get it out, he has to get it out. He can't do this -- it needs to come out of him NOW! Ash isn't even sure if he means the baby or the fucking uterus housing it. He just needs to rip it out of him!

The light outside is growing brighter and brighter, it's almost blinding and the light shining through the slats of the blinds has painted the room in shades of crimson...

A sudden gush of liquid flows from between Ash's legs, soaking his pants and the carpet beneath him as everything inside of him suddenly shifts downwards. He feels like he's going to pass out, too afraid to even scream as he watches it move...

' That's...that's the water breaking...' The words sound almost hysterical in his mind.'I'm...oh God.'

He's going into labor. In less than ten minutes, he had gone through an entire pregnancy and was now about to birth whatever horrible thing had grown inside of him in that time span.

The silence outside has been replaced by a low, droning hum that grows louder with every passing second -- with each contraction that slams into Ash's body. The pain is worse now, he doesn't understand how he's still conscious.