Warning: All characters in this story are at or above the legal age of 18. This story contains nonconsent/reluctance which may not be suitable for all readers.
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A digital message flashes above the elevator door.
2ND FLOOR. CLOVEHILL VALLEY.
ESCORT THE SCIENTIST TO SAFETY.
Nice, an escort mission.
The elevator doors part, revealing a gloomy cemetery with sickly white trees and gravestones overgrown with vines.
The wind howls with ghostly notes that linger as crickets softly chirp beneath. The foreboding atmosphere sparks curiosity more than caution.
As I step onto the landscape, the elevator closes behind me and sinks into the dirt. The earth engulfs it whole as freshly dew grass grows in its place.
Well, looks like there's no going back.
My clothes pixelate into a bodysuit, leaving everything north of my collar bone exposed. The fabric builds a hood behind my shoulders as gripped padding protrudes from the underside of my gloved extremities.
The outfit dyes itself into the night's darkness as it compresses to my shapely curves. An earpiece plugs into my right ear and lightly hums on my lobe.
"-report. Status-Sss-" a faint, audible voice clashes with radio interference in my ear. I tap the communicator and manage to minimize the static, but the person's voice is still very faded.
"Vv-Vix. Status report. Come in. Do you copy?"
That must be me. I'm Vix.
"Th-this is Vix, here. I copy!" I shout as I press the device against my ear, hoping it encourages the individual at the other end to speak louder.
"Lower your bloody voice, agent! Area is unsecured. Howler hostiles. I repeat, Howler hostiles."
"Hostiles? What are Howlers?" I whisper, checking my six as if I knew what they're referring to.
A frustrated sigh blows into the communicator, "You didn't read the mission, you fucking-" The person has an assertive, yet feminine accent that's briefly interrupted with what sounds like expensive equipment being ripped from their connections and thrown. "Fucking-Fuck! Fuck. Fuck!"
A long silence intervenes as I feel the gravity of the situation settling in.
This quest may not be as easy as I thought it would be.
"Listen closely, Vix. This is your fucking Commander speaking. I'm only going to explain this once, so you bloody better pay attention."
Another uncomfortable pause occurs. I swallow the lump in my throat as the sensation of fear envelops me.
The crickets stop chirping.
"We received a distress signal from the town's mortuary. Your orders are to investigate and extract civilians. No casualties. They could have the intel we need. Do you understand?"
"I understand." I say in a low, obedient tone.
"Commander," she retorts.
"I understand, Commander." I roll my eyes, "So.. Howlers. What are they?"
"If you had read the case file like a good little agent, then you wouldn't be asking that question!" she roars into the microphone as the sound of another device being launched across the room echoes in the background. The Commander takes a moment to collect herself before continuing.
"We don't entirely know. What we do know is that they-" the Commander cuts out.
"Hello? I mean, come in. Come in, Commander?"
"-there were multiple reports of civilians disappearing in the night. Locals believe the abductions are associated with the sound of howling. Clovehill's seasonal rainfall makes it impossible to collect evidence." I tap the communicator as radio interference interrupts the debriefing.
"Whatever you-"
Tssssk. Tssssk.
"-keep your stealth suit on. It's impenetrable. Going radio silent. Commander over and out." The earpiece clicks as it turns off abruptly.
Is she serious? I have no idea what I'm up against. Coyotes? Werewolves?
A violet cloud puffs from underneath my footing, forming a path that leads north.
I've seen glowing paths like this in other video games before, they usually lead you to a waypoint or the start of a quest! I never realized how helpful this game mechanic is when you don't have a map.
I flip the ebony hood over my head and pursue the colorful smoke cautiously, stalking to the shadows of trees and tombs.
In the distance, the full moon hovers over the peaked roof of a two story gothic house. The purple trail dissipates inside the disheveled and boarded up front door of the mortuary.
A rusty sign swings beside the entrance, desperately holding onto a single hinge for dear life.
CLOVEHILL VALLEY: MORTUARY. FAMILY OWNED FOR 69 YEARS.
That must be the mortuary where the distress signal originated. Didn't the elevator message mention a scientist? What is a scientist doing in a mortuary?
I follow the trail until I arrive at the mortuary's manicured front lawn. A tiered fountain decorated with gargoyles spills murky water from their maws. The square patch of land looks suspiciously well maintenanced in comparison to the overall property's deteriorating condition.
A shadow in one of the second floor windows catches my eye. It looks like the outline of a person waving their arms frantically above their head.
That must be the scientist!
I motion for her to meet me on the ground level as I approach the front door.
The unknown figure transitions from flailing their arms to get my attention to motioning with their hands for me to stop.
As I jog onto the lush emerald blades of the courtyard, I'm able to identify the figure as a woman. She's smaller than me, with a moderate bust and curvy hips that sway gracefully beneath her pristine lab coat.
Wait, did I get curvier?
I'm suddenly aware of how much more muscular my lower half is, sporting dancer's legs and a robust ass. I hadn't realized until now that my body's proportions had changed in addition to my wardrobe. I run a gloved hand over my torso, discovering a slim stomach and well endowed chest.
Lost deep within my thoughts, I hardly notice the Scientist throwing an urn at me.
Throwing an urn at me?
I skid to a halt and flip backwards into a defensive crouch, landing silently with the assistance of the stealth suit. The urn shatters, making little noise on the damp grass, save for the crumbling sound of broken pottery.
Loud howling echoes from the depths of the mortuary. My face turns pale as a knot twists in my stomach.
Howlers. She was trying to warn me, not hit me.
A pack of nightmarish creatures pour into the yard, sprinting on two legs with reckless coordination of their limbs. It takes them milliseconds to crowd the site of impact, one of them standing mere centimeters from my face.
The Howlers appear humanoid in form, hunched over and limping in their gate. Their skin is bruised purple with protruding grey veins, most likely from a lack of oxygen. A thin, transparent liquid seeps from their pores.
The slime catches on everything the Howlers touch, leaving traces of their existence on the grass, bushes, and tombstones with the surface tension of tree sap.
This is it. I'm dead. I'm going to be stuck in this game forever! Or worse, die!
My heart rapidly drums as fear immobilizes me in my crouched position. I focus on controlling my breathing, rationalizing the situation.
They haven't discovered you yet, stay calm. They must have bad eyesight. Stay calm.. How the fuck am I supposed to escort the Scientist to safety?
The Howlers groan amongst each other, communicating as they blindly navigate around the lawn. One of them brushes against my front as he slowly limps past, the smell of pepper filling my nostrils as I fight off a sneeze.
The little hairs on the back of my neck raise as his icey flesh slides across my tits, leaving a viscous trail of slime across the protective stealth suit. I can make out his features as he staggers.
Combat boots. Camouflage uniform. Buzz cuts. Are these troops? Is this a military cover up?
The zombie-like creatures eventually scatter into the surrounding brush as they further their search. Once they disappear into the foliage, I flash a thumbs up to the Scientist and quietly sneak towards the front door.
As the Scientist meets me at the doorway's threshold, I quickly notice the black lingerie peeking out from her thin lab coat.
The femme lowers her blocky framed glasses and perks an eyebrow as she catches me staring.
Tssss.tsssk.
I wince as the communicator in my ear buzzes with radio static.
"-Vix. Do you need back up? Come in, Vix. Radar intelligence has recorded a howl. Are you compromised? There's a suicide cap in your wisdom tooth-"
I immediately rip the communicator out of my ear and toss it into the fountain's basin, the device drowning as bubbles surface in its place.
Shit! Did they hear that?
A twig snaps behind me.
Oh yeah, they heard that.
I look up to see the Scientist's green iris' widen with horror, her pupils reflecting a row of Howlers standing directly behind me.