The wriggling, spasmodically twitching bundle slowed its frantic movements, then swayed gently from past momentum, as it dangled from the strands attaching it to the ceiling. Inside the myriad sinewy threads that formed an effective cocoon surrounding it, a body hung, contorted in its posture from gravity and the entanglement of limbs and torso floating in a viscous gel. Glenna contemplatively ran her hand slowly along the surface of the vessel of her creation, feeling the bumps of elbows and other body parts disturbing the otherwise smooth surface of the sack- marveling yet again at the now familiar curves and straights of a human body.
She knew at last that she preferred them- humans, that is. They had proven cumbersome to keep, and tricky to seduce as compared with other prey taken by her over time, but their "energy" which sustained her was unsurpassed. She occasionally fancied that she could devour them- languidly sucking the juice from their bones and melting them away like the other prey that she milked from their cocoons until those containments were empty husks, but she knew that was impossible. She could only draw out her human victim's "energy", one feeding at a time. Doing so required keeping them alive, and placid, for her sustenance.
Glenna cupped her hand just below the bottom of the cocoon, and with the other cradled it close to her bosom, squeezing it against her chest like some over-sized bag of frosting. From its tight bottom seal, a tiny trickle of milky liquid dribbled into the palm of her waiting hand, which she hungrily took to her lips, lapping it up and sucking at fingertips until all traces were gone.
The sensation that flowed through her at this was electric. A perceptible warmth and glow washed over her, from her head down, and she shivered in ecstasy. Her dear, sweet prey barely moved against her breasts from within his tight confines. Through warped light and shadow that escaped the cocoon, she could watch him, as he stirred for a few moments- struggling to twist about as if intent on clutching at her from his prison, only to soon return to motionless slumber, enforced by faint, purple vapors that surrounded his naked form.
She knew that within a few days, she would have drawn everything she could hope to take from him, and that then she would leave him to fight his way out of the sack. Without the continued addition of her elixir to his cocoon, he would eventually regain full consciousness and struggle to free himself. If by then he had grown too weak, he'd soon perish. But that was not a concern for her. You see, she never killed. At least not human prey. The same challenge of survival awaited 43 other humans- likewise cocooned and attached to walls and ceilings about the place.
It had proven to be one of her smarter ideas- "stowing away", as it were, inside a horse stall within the ship's cargo hold. Home- becoming known to her as "Buckstrom" through stolen memories, was the planet where the colonists had first encountered her. Once free of the space vessel, the people marveled in watching her ooze from place to place- as she would slowly stalk her prey, lay traps for them, then snare, sedate, and luxuriously sup upon her quarry. Her oozing body would flow over and completely envelop a hapless creature, be it a deer or a boar, and within a short time all the struggles of that victim would trail off, and she would eventually flow away, leaving naught but a depressed place in the grass as evidence of her conquest.
Someone had deemed her to be as clever as an Octopus. Whatever that was, it left her feeling rather offended- learning eventually through awareness she acquired from someone else that an octopus was an eight-limbed, bulbous, predator of the earthen sea. She was smart indeed, and only got smarter with every new victim she conquered. Over the course of a combined 1500 years of human memories she eventually acquired, she became able to speak, to experience emotion, and even to look exactly like them. Though she wished she could look like something different, she could only assume the form of her previous prey. Imagination, it seemed was something that eluded her.
Her challenge at the moment was that she needed new prey- craving greater knowledge, hungering to absorb even more energy, and enduring an overwhelming longing to swoon in the joyous ecstasy to be had in feeding- all manner of "feeding".
She waited in the silent, echoing hold that had become her home. Conserving energy, she lie motionless, possessed of the bodily form she had assumed of Lieutenant Helen Cavatt, a curvaceous beauty of a woman with long, silky blond hair, deep and soulful eyes, and a body that spoke volumes about the pleasures of the flesh.
Capturing and feeding upon her first human in Helen, had been pure luck. The woman, it seemed, was charged with looking after the horses in Glenna's adopted home. Curiously, however, the woman made no effort to eat them. If she were capable of such thoughts at that point in her evolution, Glenna would have thought that odd, as her own motivations in living extended little beyond the imperatives of physical survival.
