Weirdtrack While He Slept Ch 01

Author's note: All characters participating in or witnessing sexual encounters are 18 of age or older.

*****

Begin::WeirdTrack: While He Slept Ch. 1 - BadDay;

Start(WeirdTrack_BadDay(Intro));

There once was a girl and god loved her. Put like that it all seems so simple. Every life is so small and boring. No life is ever different. They think themselves unique, but all lives are the same. A human. Born, lived, and somehow died. There you have it, the life of every human being that ever was, is, and will be. Their stories as normal and ordinary as all others. Boring.

Take an individual. Born. Lived. Died.

Name::Isaac Miller;

Hair::Clean Brown;

Eyes::Dirty Green;

Height::5'9, but when asked 6'0'';

Features:: A mole shaped like a pyramid, if you squinted that is.

Born in Alabama to an absentee father and to a mother who left before the ink on his birth certificate had dried. Isaac lived with his grandmother his whole life, plagued by good intentions and bad habits; he wanted to be a nurse so he could help just as his Gam-Gam had. Died at the age of thirty-six trying to give CPR to a dying Gam-Gam, his drug addled heart giving up. Two Millers dead.

Witness him. See him playing basketball with his friends. Friends that look just like him, but he doesn't notice. See his school yard sweetheart, Joan Green. They met alone, two seniors late for class made later still by a good talk. It is a beautiful thing to have a conversation that lasts for hours but feels like minutes. See them embrace under the stars and the unseen moon. His lanky arms wrapped around her and his pasty hands pressing against her ebony skin, expensive and resonant skin— not brown, not chocolate. Ebony. Smell the gasoline.

Weeks later, see them giving each other pieces of themselves: a hand, an elbow, a smile, a laugh, a shelter from the rain. Isaac's friends see. Do you? What about them, do you see them?

Caricatures of a society whose ideas of others do not change; they only became more nuanced. Their faced distortions of hate. Do you hear them? Their yells. Their slurs. Their anger. Anger not at a person, but at their imagining of a person. The sounds are quiet at first, whispers behind backs. But they get louder. Don't worry. You'll hear them.

Do you see feel it? The insults from friends and the whispers from family. Do you feel them cut? Do you feel their burn? Do you feel the shame and confusion for something you don't understand? Isaac does. Do you know how it feels when you've disappointed and want to make it better?

Do you smell the gasoline?

Do you smell the fire? The ashes of a home, of a life, of hopes and dreams of a future. The scent rough, it hurts to inhale. It's heavy on your lungs.

Do you see her? Her ebony skin lit by the flames. The sheen of sweat on her glitters in the night like broken glass on the street. Do you hear her wails? Do you care?

Do you see him? Isaac Miller, a man only in age, standing near. His friends laugh like hyenas, light and sharp like pocket knives. Isaac does not laugh. He does not look at the house. He does not look at her. He does not see her.

Watch her leave.

A life. Just another life. Born. Lived. Died.

It's not anything more than that, yet it is an entire world. Each of us are one of these worlds. Every day we slide and slip past one another. Our pains, our joys, our sorrows, our regrets, our fuck-you's, our fuck-me's, our tears— both of joy and of laughter, and our deaths all bump into one another, squeezing against each other like a cluster of bubbles threatening to become one.

Please Remember: There once was a girl and god loved her.

Do you smell the gasoline?

Stop(WeirdTrack_BadDay(Intro));

Start(WeirdTrack_BadDay(Prelude));

Principal Kat was a red lioness when she stormed into the admin wing Wednesday morning. A fresh red apple gripped in one hand.

Grace, her student secretary stood up when she saw her, "Good morning Miss-"

"Shut it Gale." She didn't spare the girl a glance as she passed. Kat marched straight into her office.

Grace sank back into her chair and stared blankly at her history book.

Kat stuck her head back out of the door. She caught Grace with vicious eyes. She adjusted her glasses as she focused on her student.

"Are you wearing makeup?"

"Uh," Grace was prey and Kat the predator armed and deadly with claws, teeth and an assault rifle.

"Y-yes. I am Miss Kat. I'm sorry. I kn-know I'm not supposed to, but it's been rough since my sister got sent to the wall and I really needed-"

"I like it. Great smoky eye work. Keep it up Gale." Kat jerked her head back in and slammed the door.

"M-my names..not..." Grace sat back down. Taking a moment to touch her name tag, before setting to work touching up her makeup.

Kat locked her office door and began to disrobe. Starting with her heels, then her coat, and finally tossing her pants aside. They draped casually over the Vice-Principal Tok's student assistant. It added a touch a modesty to the lurid act being done on the Principal's couch.

Jennifer, undisturbed by the pants, continued bobbing up and down between Vice-Principal Tok's legs while he read a magazine. 'The Truth: So, you think you might be a catalyst for an Eldritch God's apocalypse'.

Kat plopped down in her office chair, wearing only panties and a dress shirt. The apple placed right at her desks center.

"Fuck pants." Her toe tapped the on button on her computer. She glanced towards Tok. "That stuff will rot your brain."

Tok flipped to the next page, scanning the trashy contents, ignoring the scantily clad models for the gems of hidden knowledge.

"Worth it." He stroked his beard in thought as he considered his own role in the demise of many a country, and whether that could be considered a contribution to a greater God's apocalypse.

Kat cast her spreadsheets into a 3D display in front of her. She flipped pages back and forth with a flick of the wrist and mad annotations with quick tip taps from her fingers. "I was talking to your little helper over there."

"Hey, just because I call him little Tok does not mean he is little."

"Not that either."

"Mhe?" Breathed Jennifer around Tok's cock.

"Yeah, don't you know the kind of stuff Tok eats. If a drop of that stuff goes into his jizz, then you're in for a rough day."

Tok glared over his magazine. "It's not that bad."

"You ate a whole onion yesterday."

"So?"

"You used mayo as dip."

The Principal and Vice-Principal met eyes in a contest of might. Tok looked away, opening his magazine once more. "Fair."

Jennifer pulled off his cock with a pop. Spit and pre-cum trailed from her lips. She slurped them away with a whisk of her tongue and said, "It can't be that bad. My parents were straight from the home country. I swear there was one summer where all I had to eat was teriyaki pigeon and rice."

"Huh, I thought the whole eating pigeon thing was a myth?" Tok glanced over his magazine at the raven-haired cutie who was slobbering over his cock.

"It. Is." Jennifer punctuated each word with a deep suck of his cock. "We," gag. "Were," gag. "Poor," retch.

Tok nodded and returned to his magazine.

Kat opened that day's emails and updates; she'd only read one before she swiped the screen off. "This is horseshit." She grabbed her apple, bringing it to her lips but not biting. Her hands gripped it so hard it began to crack, apple juice streaming from the red skin.

"No cussing, remember. We're supposed to be calm and stoic while we have our students in our presence. We're the stone structure of wisdom which they can always turn to."

Jennifer pulled from Tok's dick, tucking her hair back and giving Kat an innocent glance. "We're so impressionable. What if my dad found out that the Principal cussed in front of me?"

Kat slumped back in her seat, "Keep that up and I'll have the whole X-treme Baking club running a train on you. And I'll personally video it and send it to your dad. See if I care about your limp dicked daddy."

Jennifer licked the side of Tok's cock, "Promish?"

"That's the ticket." Tok grabbed a fistful of black hair and shoved her down to the hilt. He found a rhythm of thrust, thrust, breathe before he turned to Kat. "So, what's up?"

"The eight fams." Kat watched as he held Jennifer down that she began to worry that she'd pass out. But a moment later he let her go. She pulled away gulping down air before thrusting herself back on him. "How's she does that? You'd think she had an extra pair of lungs."

Tok nodded knowingly. "It's the jizz wizard in her. I'm bringing it out bit by bit."

Kat rolled her eyes, "That's not real magic. You can't just add wizard and make it sound magical."

He shrugged, "What do the families want?"

"They don't want anything this time."

"Good."

"But they did do something."

"Bad."

"Apparently there was a hole in the quarantine of Kos and a critter slipped on by."

Tok pulled Jennifer off of him and looked at Kat, "What kind?"

"Remember Singapore? That but smaller and less mouths."

Jennifer swallowed a mess of drool and asked, "What happened in Singapore?"

"We can't talk about it." Tok motioned for her to continue.

Tok began to fondle Jennifer's breasts through her school shirt. Watching with a bored expression as the girl sped up her masochistic throat impalement.

"So?"

"So, that critter wandered straight into our yard. Now instead of sending their own team to deal with it, their saying it's on our sovereign soil so we have to deal with it."

Tok furrowed his brow. "That ain't right. They didn't even offer to take care of it?"

Kat shook her head, frazzled red strands of hair shook from her curly, wild mane. "They did, but on the condition that they annex us. As if they'd be doing us a favor."

Tok nodded, "I concur. Horseshit."

Jennifer began to slide off to comment, but Tok pushed her back down with one hand.

"Shit. Open the blinds."

"Seriously?" Kat fumbled for the remote. New Age Reggae began to blare when she hit the wrong button. "Dammit."

"Hurry up." Tok began to tense. He gripped her hair and began to use Jennifer like a cock socket, her hair a handle for his convenience.

Kat hit the button and the ceiling turned translucent revealing the stars above and the blue glow of earth about to break into view.

Tok watched like a peasant seeing their God. Tears formed at the edge his eyes. The last thrusts into Jennifer's throat her hard and slow. Black streaks of mascara streamed down her cheeks. She was slack jawed, drool and cum falling freely from her mouth, dribbling from her chin, staining her white shirt.

"It's so beautiful." Tok whispered. As planet rise came. So, did he.

Jennifer was drenched. She was washed in milky white. But where others would've screamed, where others would have ran, she reveled in it.

"Fuck yes." With a smile she stretched her arms out, hands dripping with Tok's cum.

She began to chant in a language that Kat had heard countless times before but would never understand. Jennifer's hands jerked into pointed symbols before stopping, silent, her face tight with concentration. She turned her palms upwards and the cum that dripped from them began to shake.

It stretched up, white stalactites slowly reaching upwards. The jizz on her face began to leave her in thin white streams. The tendrils of cum commingled, tangling into each other forming an ever-growing ball of jizz.

Kat stood stunned at her desk. She watched in both fascination and horror at the ever-growing slimy monstrosity that floated in her office. It wasn't an impossibility, she knew that. Tok could make five cum elementals and have them cleaning the office the time it took to make a sandwich. What was amazing was that a former failing student had now begun to master the arts of Jizz Wizardry.

The door cracked open.

Grace appeared, "Excuse Miss Kat. There's a visitor-OhMy-"

It was a horror in two parts. The horror of Jennifer when she glanced at the door, at the distraction. The magic she held wavered and the ball of cum which was suspended above her was no longer suspended. It hit her head with a wet thwack. And it was Grace's horror. The horror of witnessing an impossibly debaucherous act and an added insult of being hit with an apple. The apple exploded across Grace's forehead, sending her falling back, straight into unconsciousness.

"Gale, I told you to knock!"

Stop(WeirdTrack_BadDay(Prelude));

Start(WeirdTrack_BadDay(A_Side));

Celty waited, floating in the firing hold, waiting for the Marquis with anticipation. On the inside of her helmet a feed of information displayed where her target was. A little past Jupiter, forty-five seconds away. She pulled up the details of her Snooker Array, an imperceptible net ready to yank whatever passed out of subspace.

"The array is fully functioning and ready for deployment. I assure you there is nothing to worry about." Samson tried to be smooth and calm, but he sounded like a sheep dressed like a wolf, surrounded by wolves, while attending a wolf banquet.

Samson was her first, and though revised over the course of a decade and a half, she'd never changed his voice.

Celty in her ship waited behind an asteroid, her ship running on low energy, waiting for the Marquis of Eden. A man who'd single handedly frightened the eight families enough for them to give him his own colony half a galaxy away. And she was about to halt his transport, infiltrate his personal spatial crystal, take on his honor guard, and hold him at the tip of her blade until he gave her what she wanted. All of this on her own. Sort of on her own.

"Ten seconds." Alia, her voice was a cat's tongue, rough but you kept wanting more. She clacked away at a nonexistent keyboard while she worked.

Celty cracked her neck and breathed. Her suit felt tight against her skin. Its fabric felt suffocating, like it was smothering her every cell.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1-"

She thought about her chemMod.

The hatch opened just as the array, a series of black orbs arranged in five-meter circle, lit up in with a blinding light. It cracked and sparkled; the Marquis transport probe stuck at its center like a fly in a spider's web. The array shut off, leaving the transport hanging in space. Celty flew forward, launched by a blow of pressure which fired her like a bullet towards the transport probe.

The probe was an orb the size of three German shepherds, backed by a triplicate of warp rockets. They stuttered uselessly.

"Not enough time to get remote access." Haley<3 sent a stream of information through the CyberFeeder.

The data flooded Celty's mind. Even with her cerebral augments, she could only briefly scan through, and that only with the help of Haley's annotations on the data. Even the best of ICEbreaking AI needed a second pair of eyes. "Shame. It looks like it'd be fun to get past. A real hunk of a security system. I wish we could tag team it, ride it down till it was begging us to stop. But no offensive measures, so I guess that's good."

Celty had expected that a remote hack wouldn't be possible, but the lack of an offensive security was a blessing.

Celty flew closer to the hull. She stretched her arms out like she was about to hug the shiny metallic head of the probe.

Execute~:Suit::Gloves.grabbyGrabs.set(true);

The electromagnets at her palms engaged, glowing blue. Celty struck the hull of the probe with such a force that it began to spin.

"Highlighting access hatch." Samson informed her.

Execute~:Body::Eyes.Seymore(SAMSON);

Her eyes, long ago replaced by better-than-organic cybernetic ones, were linked directly with Samson, practically every piece of her was linked with samson. She saw the access hatch, now highlighted in yellow. She shimmied to the hatch, and grabbed an OUU from her belt. The triangular device stuck onto the hatch and whirred. The hatch popped open.

She tossed the hatch into empty space and reached in. The spatial crystal was right there, floating in the center of the hold, held in place by wires. It was as simple as that. No extensive and ridiculous security measures. Her whole plan could've been ruined right there. But no, he had wanted to travel light and fast, and he was cocky. She knew that. She'd hoped for this.

It was at this moment that she considered shattering the Crystal. She could've just smashed it against the hull, leaving the Marquis in his own personal dimension to be imprisoned until starvation and madness took him.

But that wouldn't be thorough enough. She'd need to make sure.

Her command prompt screen lit up in the corner of her eye.

Execute~:Keys::Misc::MagicBullshitPortalOpener.exe;

"Good luck guys." Alia said. She clacked away at her imagined keyboard. "Be safe."

The crystal began to glow bright and blinding. She felt a burn coming from her meat, a swallowed soul crystal encased by a miniature tuner matching the frequency. The light engulfed her. When it faded she was gone, leaving only the transport probe, the crystal, and Celty's spaceship.

She felt sick. A human body, no matter how much of it is no longer flesh and blood, is not designed for a sudden planar shift. She found herself lying on the ground, at the center of a planar-port pad, looking up at a ten-foot-tall iron statue. A voluptuous woman whose head was tossed back in ecstasy, standing atop several severed heads.

The room was grand, reminiscent of the blue blood lifestyle mixed with a porn directors' artistic tastes. Instead of seats there were beds all around the room, red and fluffy. The walls were lined with video frames, ornate media rectangles showing various porn in slow motion. A river ran through the center of the room of pink water, it contrasted the deep color of the carpet.

"Celty. You're overheating and your proteins are low."

Her neural-feeder buzzed.

Execute~:Suit::Set(false);

The suit's mesh undid itself. The fabric retreating into the small pack at her back.

Celty's right bionic arm began to move without her permission. Beneath her suit command, a new one appeared on her optic screen.

Execute~:SAMSON::UserOverride(partial);

Her arm reached into a side pocket on her pants and pulled out a half-eaten pack of peanuts. She practically inhaled them in one gulp. The sensation of being fed by her arm without her actual control didn't even register as the least bit odd.

She sat up and ran through the new series of logs. Her head still throbbed with a sickly chemical headache. Nothing to critical. Her body was functioning as expected. Temporary nausea and dizziness, but nothing that impaired her in the long term. Her systems were still functioning. Aside from Alia, her ships AI, she still had her other two.

Samson kept a vigilant eye on her both her meat and her metal. Hayley<3 kept her focus on her systems as well as keeping an eye out for any potential weaknesses in the fortress. They were already in, but that was the easy part.

Celty had expected a series of alarms and a whole platoon of soldiers, not to mention the supernatural honor guard of the Marquis. But so far there was no indication that she'd even been detected entering the Marquis private dimension. Perhaps the assault mission had turned into a quiet assassination mission. If she'd known that she would've worn her quieter legs and arms.

She stood up, cracked her neck, and stepped off the planar-port. She began her trek into the beast's belly. Her chrome whirring in anticipation.

Celty froze just as she was about to open the double doors. Above the archway leading into the rest of the mansion was a screen. It read, "Welcome, Dear Visitor!".

If that wasn't enough to set her on edge the sound of a cart made her jump back. She even ignored a small notification which came from Hayley<3. Her limbs whirred to life, a light hum coming from each. The door opened.