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Z'uthralg preferred to exist in the water.They didn’t just float in the sea, they became the sea. Their winding arms curved and coiled with the tides, and their blood turned to salt. Eyes melted into clumps of seaweed and foam as they surrendered their sight, desperate to embrace the calm of seeing nothing at all. Fish swam through them, unhindered by what was unseen, unaware of the visitor’s invisible body.What were they?This was a question which they could not answer. Z'uthralg did not know what they were, why they existed, or even where their name had come from. They just were.It was easier, in the sea. Easier to be a thing without personhood, or at least attempt to be. The fluid landscape cradled their form and offered creatures who somewhat resembled them, in body if not in spirit. Octopodes moved like Z'uthralg, unfurling and morphing, made of slippery meat which stretched and grabbed and pulled.Z'uthralg had tried to live among the creatures for a while, even taking the form of an octopus, but it hadn’t worked. They had watched as eggs were laid, semi-translucent and gently swaying with the tide, and had later hovered above the limp corpses of the pair which had given their lives for this process. The bodies were swarmed by hungry creatures until there was nothing left, until the eggs had hatched and the offspring were being carried away by the ocean currents, never to meet their parents. But those offspring did not mourn their family, did not have names, and could not offer the empathy which Z'uthralg so desired. The octopodes belonged to nature, and calmly played a role which was predetermined. Z'uthralg was just an alien presence, a shape-shifting voyeur, crying without tears as they yearned for a family.The ocean only became peaceful once Z'uthralg stopped trying at all. They shed the skins they had worn, of octopodes and fish and all manner of disguises, and just surrendered.They floated by creatures of all kinds, some known to humans and others not. Z'uthralg had long since abandoned the hope that, if they revealed themself, other beings would receive them with curiosity and eventual affection. It had never happened. For years, their appearance and tentative greetings had been met with violent fear. The merpeople, territorial and fiercely bonded, had recoiled from Z'uthralg with ear-splitting shrieks, high-pitched wails travelling for miles and killing all except the target of their attack. The pack’s screams had not harmed Z'uthralg, but had cleanly broken what remained of their heart. They had tried so hard, taking the appearance of a merman and singing a quiet, mournful song in mertongue; a song they had practiced over and over again on their own, reciting the language until they were fluent. All for nothing. They didn't fit. They just weren't right.That had been the last time they tried.They were oceans away, now. Many days and nights had passed. Years, certainly. Perhaps generations. Z'uthralg did not wish to know. They could not die, but they could refuse to live. A small revenge against whatever force had brought them into this world and abandoned them as an ugly, unknowable creature which terrified all who beheld them. A vile thing.Try as they might, however, they could not shut out the world entirely. Their creator had cursed them with senses which humankind would consider gifts. The ocean was loud with thoughts. The sky above was a vast space littered with the frantic monologue of prey birds and the calm instincts of winged predators. Fishing boats and coastal towns brought the chaos of human lives, the delightfully tangled mess of emotion and desire which Z'uthralg could only yearn to be a part of. They could feel it all. Whole lives passed through them, bringing memories so real that Z'uthralg would momentarily believe they were something else, someone else, until the connection was severed and they were reduced to emptiness once more. The world was a complex, never-ending tapestry of connection. They could taste every thread, untangle the innermost thoughts of all creatures, and that made their isolation utter torture. Ignorance truly would have been bliss.Even as they dissolved their eyes, melted their merman ears, and reduced their body to a colourless, liquid, imperceptible mass, they could not make the world shut up. Every mind, every soul, every creature called to them and demanded envy. The screams of the merpeople echoed endlessly, mocking any hope they felt, reminding them that they were not wanted.They could not make the pain stop. They could not die. They could not sleep.They were alone. *** It was summer, when Z'uthralg's world changed.They had travelled, without intent, to a tiny seaside town. The ocean had carried their limp, miserable body to that seemingly ordinary place. Later they would wonder whether some miracle had occurred, whether they had been brought here by fate.Brought to him.The taste which caught Z'uthralg's attention, which led them to the man they would love eternally, was something they had never before encountered.Blood slithered through the water, insidious and heavy with memories. It bloomed outward for miles. Z'uthralg, at that moment, did not have a tongue; they had abandoned it long ago. But they found one forming, manifesting from their curiosity alone. They licked at the blood, scrutinising its nuance. The whispers of its bitter, horrific flavour amid the heady salt of the sea.What they tasted was pure evil. The blood belonged to a true monster. The sharp-toothed terrors which roamed the darkest depths of the sea could not compare to the mundane, physically inferior human whose soul carried the screams of innocent victims. This kind of evil was deeper, sentient, and able to grasp the suffering of others. It was more cruel. More deliberate.And dead.What fascinated Z'uthralg though, the spark of interest which finally woke them up, were the other flavours they could taste. The other things they could feel. And, after so long, they wanted to feel. So, they did. Z'uthralg let it all in.The human monster had died in great pain. This being, who had preyed on the weak and the young, had been punished. Punished to death. The sour blood was laced with fear, and with something sweeter; another person's essence was entwined with the fear, inextricable from it. The hands which had brought justice had left their mark. That soul called to Z'uthralg, ringing across the water, clear as a bell. The vigilante was nearby.Z'uthralg moved, rather than passively floated, toward the radiant soul. They could hear a heartbeat. Thrumming with excitement, fascination. Their own heartbeat. They were willingly existing again.They swam, tentacled limbs invisible but very much alive, toward a fishing platform. It was made of uneven, barnacle-encrusted wood, green algae creeping up its pillars. Z'uthralg could no longer hear the barely-there murmurs of the barnacles, because every fibre of their being was captivated by what they beheld.The blood had been coming from a cube of meat.Fish were frantically jabbing their small bodies at the feast, mouths agape as they clumsily fed on the offering, unaware of its evil and unaffected by it. They, like the barnacles, were quiet now. For the first time, Z'uthralg was truly distracted.A gleaming silver hook, large and sharp and barbed, had been dragged through the meat, spearing it with as much cruelty as the fisherman had inflicted whilst the monster was alive. Z'uthralg's gaze followed the fishing line upward, to the rod which was held by small but deadly hands. And then, to the boy in his entirety.Z'uthralg had been bombarded with the deepest thoughts, truths, and instincts of other creatures for their entire existence. But, as they stared at the boy, all they found was silence. They could only look.He sat right on the edge of the fishing platform. He swung his bare feet lazily, toes almost meeting the surface of the water, as though he were tempting Z'uthralg to reach up, to touch. He wore plain cloth garments, shorts and a baggy shirt, and appeared to be a typical villager. He wore a straw hat atop a mess of flaxen curls, the brim casting shadow over his round-cheeked face, bottle green eyes, and pale lashes.An average boy. Somewhat handsome, with a soft face that defied easy estimation of age, but otherwise unremarkable.Yet he was fishing with a piece of human meat, and he had had been the one to slaughter the bait. Of that, Z'uthralg was certain. No, this was not a typical boy, regardless of how he appeared.He gazed down at the swarming fish, seeming bored. His eyes were half-lidded and his jaw was relaxed, lips parted as he watched on with dull interest. Z'uthralg, who had been so cold for so long, felt a rush of heat. It bubbled the water around them and made a few fish dart away in alarm. They imagined sliding a tentacle into that mouth, between those tantalising lips. Down a throat which would flex and gag. Inviting teeth which would clamp down to bite.Z'uthralg felt desire. They did not know why this particular boy had inspired such a strong response, but that was the idea, wasn't it? This senseless thing, this push and pull, was the fire which had been burning at the heart of every human civilisation Z'uthralg had floated past. It was a stranger to logic. They were finally feeling the very thing which had made them hopeless with envy.They needed more.With their mind, with their otherworldly abilities, they pushed harder against the psychic silence which the boy wielded. They had to know the soul of the stranger, had to feel him. Had to understand why he was here, with such depraved bait. It was him which Z'uthralg had tasted amid the blood. He was the killer. The enactor of justice.Their body flexed and strained, coiling in on itself as they stared upward, concentrating. The sun continued to shine down onto the pair, showering the surface of the sea with sparkling light. Nearby villagers chatted, birds chirped, fresh bread was tasted, the smell of fish wafted through the air, flowers spilled perfume and pollen. The world continued on, but Z'uthralg was hungry for only one thing.They felt it, when the fabric of the boy's soul gave way. Only slightly, but Z'uthralg felt it nonetheless. They slipped forward, into him.They felt what he felt.The smooth, well-worn wood against his legs. Warmth kissing his skin, the sunlight reflecting off the water. Another person's scent on his clothes; he had stolen them. The fishing rod, too, was stolen. The boy found no thrill in such thievery, not anymore. It was all too easy. He was bored. Humans had become less and less interesting as time went on.
Humans?
If they'd had a face in a more conventional sense, Z'uthralg would have frowned with confusion. And then their expression would have slackened with amazement, as they realised what had happened.They had mistaken the stranger for a human. They had been fooled.Nobody fooled them.Not ever.The too-large hat concealed his furred ears, which sat high on his head. His unkempt curls concealed his lack of human ears, and the blank stretches of skin which would provoke the confusion, suspicion, and fear of many human villagers. The stolen shorts, tied around his waist with a length of rope, were ill-fitting to conceal his tail. His body was not small and lithe because he was a human boy in the tender days of early adulthood. Creatures such as he were built for speed and agility, making his size an advantage which he knew how to wield. He was built to kill. And he was much, much older than he appeared.Humankind had many different words for such creatures. Catfolk. Feline hybrids. Tomcats. Humanoid half-breeds. Z'uthralg did not particularly care for such limiting words.Flashes of his life, glimpses into his barbaric truth. One of his hands clenching a fistful of hair which was thickly matted with blood, yanking back on a human's head until bones strained and whined from the pressure. Biting down as if into a peach, skin offering only a moment of resistance before gushing red sent copper dancing across his tongue. Then— gone. The vision ending as quickly as it had begun, leaving only the innocent façade behind.Z'uthralg pushed harder. They had to know the stranger.This time, when they felt the fisherman's soul shift, it did not dip inward. Z'uthralg did not slip deeper into the stranger's mind and body. Instead, the opposite happened.The fisherman went still. He stopped swinging his feet. Tension settled into every muscle as he pushed back against Z'uthralg's psychic prodding. Like a cat preparing to leap, or a viper about to strike, he ceased moving entirely. The lie of an innocent boy was broken by an inhuman stillness. He became a statue made of flesh.He raised his green eyes, casting his gaze across the surface of the water. The dazzling bursts of reflected sunlight did not obscure his vision. After a few moments, he looked directly at Z'uthralg, stare locking on their floating form. They had not chosen to reveal themself, but he could perceive them anyway, which should have been impossible.Z'uthralg felt sadness.They knew what would come next.He would bare his teeth, perhaps scream or hiss, and then flee. Just like all the others, he would reject them. They would be alone again.They were so certain of this, so overcome by misery, that they did not even resist when they felt the pressure of a curiously probing mind. The stranger was pushing back, was answering Z'uthralg's psychic digging with his own advance. Still sitting on the fishing platform, his soul moved across the water and dipped into them, beneath defences they'd never truly erected. He was the first to even attempt such a thing.He tilted his head, curious. He had not found hostility or violence. He had found something quite unexpected, and that interested him enough to stay put. He relaxed. His grip loosened around the fishing rod. He absent-mindedly bounced it a little, so the crowd of fish frantically jostled to follow the tainted meat. As he did, his expression softened. A smile came to his lips. A loving sorrow as he felt Z'uthralg's loneliness.He resumed swinging his feet. Birds continued to chirp. The villagers largely ignored the pretty boy on the fishing platform, focussed instead on mundane tasks. Life resumed."Hello," the stranger said. His voice was quiet. He seemed to know that he needn't speak loudly.Z'uthralg didn't know what to do. How long since someone had spoken to them? Years, certainly. A decade? A century? More?"I'm talking to you, down there."
"You can… perceive me? My body?"
"Sure."
"You are not afraid?"
"No."Z'uthralg floated in the water. Fish no longer swam through them, and seaweed moved around the curves of their form. They were becoming corporeal again. He had perceived them, given them mass.
"How can you… sense me? Reach me?"
He shrugged. "Dunno."The answer was so bizarre. All of this felt strange.
"What are you?"
"You can answer that question. I can feel you." The fisherman tapped his temple. "Up here."
"You are a feline hybrid. But that does not explain it."
He grinned, revealing sharp canines. Z'uthralg felt that warmth again. That spark. The urge to act. Desire."Then I can offer no explanation."
"You do not wish to ask what I am?"
"Nah. I can feel what you are."
"What am I?"
He could hear the desperation in their voice. His grin gave way as sorrow returned. Below where he sat, the fish had almost finished devouring his bloody offering."Your name is Z'uthralg," he murmured, tasting the unfamiliar syllables, "You don't seem certain why. Or who gave it to you. But that is your name." He paused. "You're very lonely. I'm sorry."Z'uthralg felt like crying from happiness. How odd, to have such a feeling in a body which barely existed at present.
"Thank you."
The fisherman nodded.
"I have never met anyone like you before."
"Never met a feline hybrid? We're the product of humans breeding with werecats. Kinda like a mule's the product of a donkey and a horse. We're pretty rare."
"I was not referring to your species. Your… perceptiveness. It is remarkable."
"I'm flattered."
"Most of you, I cannot reach."
"S'pose I'm just mysterious like that. What're you looking for?"
"Anything. Everything. Why are you fishing with human meat?"
He smirked. "This was a particularly bad human."
"I know. I can taste it. In the water. Between your teeth. On your tongue. In all my time, I have not met many cannibals."
"Hey, only half-cannibal. Technically. And I didn't exactly eat anyone.""You bite just to kill," Z'uthralg agreed, "But you enjoy the taste nonetheless.""Guess you do know me, after all."The pair stared at each other.The silence was loud.Z'uthralg could feel their body becoming heavier. They needed to be careful. The water was darkening, becoming solid as they separated from the sea, tendrils of flesh materialising. The fisherman was drawing them into the physical world once more. If a villager noticed, panic would ensue, inevitably followed by a monster-hunting frenzy. Z'uthralg didn't want that to happen. They wanted to stay locked in this moment.
"You did not answer the question."
"Why am I fishing with human meat?" The stranger sighed. "I was bored. The idea seemed funny. The ultimate humiliation after death."
"You are often bored?"
"Always. Not now, though."
"Because of the fishing?"
"Because of you."Z'uthralg continued to stare upwards. The heat grew. They struggled to keep their body hidden as emotions pulsed through them, as desire reared. Their lust was not the only thing surging through their body. His lust moved just as powerfully.Images flashed through Z'uthralg, of their winding tentacles stroking and holding and pushing. Visions circled between the pair until neither could tell where the thoughts originated. The fisherman shifted where he sat, thighs parting slightly. A vision of Z'uthralg's tentacled arm rising from the water, still dripping wet, sliding against the fragile skin of his inner leg. Beneath the hem of his shorts.
"I like that I have your attention."
"And I yours."
"Why are you unafraid?"
"I've never been fucked by tentacles before. If that's all you're threatening me with, well. Don't threaten me with a good time."Z'uthralg shivered in the water, drawing their limbs closer to their body, gaze darting away. The fisherman laughed, showing his sharp teeth once again. Z'uthralg couldn't believe they'd ever mistaken this creature for an innocent human."I can't see you, exactly. But you feel like you're blushing."
"I have been alive for a very long time. I have never…"
"Shit, really? Why not?""I have never had a conversation before. Not really. Let alone…" Z'uthralg took a moment to realise that they had never, in their whole life, discussed the topic of sex with anybody. "There are few opportunities for such a thing, when one is constantly perceived as a monster."The stranger stared down at Z'uthralg, appearing astounded. He shook his head slowly. Then he seemed to decide on some action, seemed to make a decision. Z'uthralg could not guess what it was, because they still could not penetrate deeper into his mind.He bounced the rod again, peered down at his bait.
"What is your name?"
"Ryden. This scumbag's almost gone," he noted.
"Where is the rest?"
"In the bellies of wild animals, mainly. Lovingly hand-fed, just to make sure not a scrap was left. Is it possible for you to leave the water?"Z'uthralg was surprised by the question. "I have not done it for a while, but yes.""You should follow me home. I wanna know more about you."
"…You would trust me that much? What if I hurt you? Kill you?"
That smile again. Bright-eyed and eager."I would relish the fight." *** It took a great deal of effort to rise out of the water while still remaining shielded from the world, hidden from the prying eyes of human villagers who undoubtedly did not share the appetites of a thrill-seeking predator. Z'uthralg was used to hiding from everybody, but they had never before remained visible to only one, while still hidden from all the rest. It was a bright summer's day, with few shadows to cradle them. A harder environment to disappear into.Z'uthralg slid upward, over slimy wood and clustered barnacles, and onto the fishing platform. The fisherman was already walking away by then, dragging the rod behind him. As if he wished to tempt his new companion, tease them with distance.They trailed along the line which the rod was leaving in the ground. They didn't dare touch the stranger yet, but they so wished to. They wanted to slide the tip of a tentacle up, around the curve of his ankle, and well beyond.Flakes of grass and grains of sand dirtied his bare feet, and he didn't seem to feel the sharp bite of rocks which were seared by the sun. If the villagers looked twice, they would notice such things. If they were capable of questioning his supposed boyhood, there was plenty to wonder about. The clues were there. Why would a boy be walking barefoot on a blisteringly hot gravel path, when his appearance so clearly showed him to be a soft-skinned youth yet to develop callouses? Why were his clothes so ill-fitting? Why had he returned from the fishing platform without any fish? Who was he? Where had he come from, and why was he here? How come nobody knew his name? Strangers were not common in a village this small.Those questions did not occur to any of the villagers. The thoughts they did have, however, were loud enough that Z'uthralg couldn't help but listen.A baker had stepped away from his store, a sign up to announce his break. He was mid-stride when he noticed the fisherman, and he immediately slowed to a standstill. His gaze travelled up and down Ryden's body. He saw a beautiful boy. He liked beautiful boys. His thoughts moved quickly; how he might introduce himself, start a conversation. Then, how he'd touch the boy. Softly, at first. How he'd fuck the boy, crooning soft reassurances as the whimpering grew more frantic. A virgin, of course; that was his preferred type. It excited him, imagining that he might be the first to claim a person.Exiting the bakery, broom in hand, came the baker's wife. Like her husband, she paused to get a good look, indulging the fantasies which immediately burst forth. She was a hard worker, physically stronger than her spouse. How easy it would be to hold the boy down, keep him still. She imagined fucking him alone, pulling his hair while she rode his face. She imagined watching as her husband fucked the boy, instructing him and controlling his movements, exerting a different form of control. Both daydreams aroused her.
"The humans are looking at you."
Ryden grinned. "They always look. Men, women, others."
"You are not bothered by it?"
"They're my prey. This is how I hunt."
"Do they fear you? When they discover that you are not entirely human?"
"When it's one-on-one? Not typically. A lotta humans just don't know what feline hybrids are. If they already think I'm a helpless, cute young person that they can dominate, it's easy to reinforce that. Werecats turn from typical people into massive, violent killing machines every full moon, so humans know to fear them. But me, I just look like a boy."
"And a human that wishes to take advantage of a boy will not be dissuaded by ears and a tail, I assume."
"Yep. A crowd of humans are quick to violence. A single human, or a couple, is easier to control."
"Do you always kill them?"
"If they need killing. Sometimes it's just to fuck. Just for fun. Not all humans are evil."
"Doing such a thing… Trapping your prey in that way. Does that satisfy you?"
"The deception is satisfying."He was avoiding the question. No, his prey did not satisfy him. That was impossible when he was not really being seen. How could he be pleasured when he was playing a role? Pretending? He was not being fucked, when he pressed his face against a stranger's bedsheets and wailed loudly enough that his mouth was covered, when he gasped and flailed and put on an act of being scared. The boy was being fucked. The wide-eyed little thing who begged that he not be exposed as a hybrid, oh, oh please, he would do anything for that secret to be kept. An easy script, a well-trodden path, a predictable outcome. That was not Ryden. He enjoyed the act, but his boredom had grown.Z'uthralg moved behind him, falling silent.Ryden walked for a while before he spoke again. "You're afraid that you won't be able to satisfy me, either."
"Have you always possessed this level of psychic intuition?"
"No, you're special. For some reason. Why're you afraid?"
"I have never done this before."
"That's okay. I don't want to put pressure on you."
"You are being so… considerate."
"I'm just treating you like a person."
"Precisely."
Ryden sighed. He was irritated by what Z'uthralg had experienced, annoyed on their behalf. They flushed hot to feel his disapproval. He cared.
"You have known me for such a short time. Are you always this impulsive?"
The hybrid hummed thoughtfully. "Not when I'm properly hunting, that requires more forethought. But otherwise, sure. 'Specially when I see something I want."
"And you want me."
"I wanna see where this goes. We gotta talk some more, at least. You're fucking fascinating, which is rare. I haven't met anybody unique for years. And I wasn't kidding about the allure of tentacles."
"But…"
"But what?"
"Do you really desire me, as I am? Looking this way? I can shape-shift. I can look more like you. A feline hybrid. Or a human. Or anything you want."
It was Ryden who fell silent, this time. When he did finally speak, he simply said, "I don't want you to pretend to be something you're not."He sounded sad.The pair travelled to the outskirts of the village, not that the outskirts were too far from its centre. This was a small community. All of the houses were single-storey and simple. The history here was settled and calm, speaking to Z'uthralg in a unified way, presenting its truth without hurry. This village had been sedentary for a long time. The same families fishing, farming, working, and procreating. A peaceful place.
"How did you end up here? In this village?"
"My prey fled here, had an empty house to hide in."
"Fled from you?"
"Yes."Z'uthralg could feel his frustration. "That is unusual?""They don't usually escape. I had to make it right. And I did."Ryden walked to the side of the path. He reached into his pocket, produced a key. His prey was no longer around to make use of this house, so he had taken up residence for a while. As he inserted the key into the keyhole of a rusty gate, Z'uthralg rose behind him. They reached around his body, as if hugging him from behind. The tip of a tentacle moved against his skin, lifting the hem of his shirt. They stroked beside his bellybutton, feeling a raised, puckered scar that was still healing. Ryden paused, caught off-guard by the sensation of a body against his back and a muscular, slick arm wrapped around his body.
"Your prey fought back."
Ryden took a breath before he nodded and said, "Yes."
"That made the kill even sweeter. The fight more thrilling."
Ryden turned the key. "Have you ever killed a person?"
"No."
"Yet you're so turned on, hearing about what I've done. What I am."Z'uthralg tightened their grip on his body. "I confess, you make me feel… different.""Seems like you're fixing to fuck me in public. Right here, on the street." Ryden spoke low and slow, through a smile. "Can't say I'm not tempted."Before Z'uthralg could say or do anything further, Ryden opened the gate and stepped through.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
It wasn't a home, not really. It had once been a vacation spot, rented by city folk who considered the area quaint. It had then been bought by the polite, deceptively friendly monster who had been intelligent enough to secure a hideout, in the event that years upon years of horrific crimes ever saw the light of day. Just enough time in the town to make a few acquaintances, establish a non-threatening presence, and plan for the life of a fugitive. But evil had not touched these walls too often; nobody had. Not until very recently.Z'uthralg entered. Ryden closed and locked the door.
"You cleaned remarkably well. Were a villager to enter, they would not suspect a thing."
"They'll have their suspicions before they even walk in." Ryden hung the key on a hook beside the entrance, propped the fishing rod against the wall. "Probably very soon. But yeah, when they come investigating, they won't find any evidence."And the evidence had been plentiful. The kill had not been messy, the end almost anti-climactic once it arrived, but the weeks preceding it had been.
"You have been here for around a month?"
"Yep." Ryden wandered into the house. Beneath his feet were rust-coloured shadows. He had laid plastic down before beginning his gruesome work, so spilled blood had not physically left stains on the floorboards, but Z'uthralg could see those stains nonetheless. They could see everything, hear every muted cry, every grunt and plea. This house would never be the same again. Any psychic being would sense it. Even the non-psychic, the average humans, would be uneasy in this dwelling."Followed that piece of shit here. Took my time making the gravity of the… situation… apparent."
"Torture."
"It was deserved," Ryden insisted flatly, "If you'd seen the victims-"
"I can see the victims. Through your memories. Does it weigh on you? Seeing such things? Knowing such horrors?"
He sighed. "Not nearly enough. Not like it'd affect a human. Not like it weighs on you," he added quietly, "I can feel how upset it makes you."
"You wish you could be more vulnerable."
"I used to. But I've accepted my nature now. I'm a brute. A killer." Ryden strode further into the house, old floorboards creaking as he went. Every curtain was drawn, sunlight making the battered fabric glow. Salt was eating away at every inch of this place and, once Ryden was gone, it would continue to decay. The whole town would.
"There is bitterness in your words."
"It hurts to accept a fact which renders you unloveable."
"I do not consider you unloveable."
"I'd say the same of you. But there's a big difference between you and me."
"What difference?"
Not answering yet, the hybrid came to a standstill in the middle of a bedroom. Z'uthralg followed close behind. His smell was stronger in here, the air warmer and more familiar, once-stiff sheets now softened by his skin and his sweat. He slept nude.Feeling his new companion drawing close, Ryden turned to face the creature. His heart was thrumming, arteries warm with adrenaline and fear. Simply being near Z'uthralg was almost too much. He had felt them as an itch, at first; a whisper that had become louder as they breached him, slid inside his body and his mind. The connection he felt with this mysterious being was now so strong that he was filled with thoughts which were not his own. How fucking thrilling, to experience something entirely new.He felt the brush of tentacles against his skin, found himself breathless at the intent behind those brief touches. An intent that the creature did not yet act on. The desire to press him up against a wall and hold him still, explore every inch of him. He supposed he ought to be more frightened of that. As it was, the fear he felt only made him crave this more. He was quite literally weak at the knees, shaky in a way nobody had made him for a very long time. He did not just feel vulnerable, he genuinely was vulnerable. He couldn't even predict what the creature might do.Z'uthralg watched as Ryden's gaze focussed and then drifted, forehead furrowed as he tried to discern the face before him. Every time he managed to perceive an eye, a tongue, mouths, teeth, the details slid away once again. Fluid.
"Do not look too hard at me. It may be painful."
"Impossible to resist trying."
"That makes sense. You are a predator. Your instinct is to analyse your surroundings."
"But you, you're so… so difficult to grasp."Ryden blinked several times, shaking his head as if clearing thoughts from his mind. He inhaled as though preparing to speak again, but found himself breathless once again. When he swayed a little, Z'uthralg steadied him.A moan escaped his mouth as they held his arms, tentacles coiled around his biceps. He shivered just to feel their touch, just to hear their thoughts and confront their desire; how strongly they wished to fuck him, how madly they needed more. And Z'uthralg, who had spent countless days and nights pursuing absolute apathy, felt his every heartbeat as though it were their own, felt emotions that were strong beyond description. He was inside them, as they had been inside so many others. The intent to fuck him was not solely theirs. Their every action, every urge, was guided by his unseen hand. They needn't have been nervous. He was in control and they were a very willing student.They didn't tighten their grip on his arms, but they did slide their touch further, curving into his sleeves and up past his shoulders, until the tips of their tentacles emerged from the collar of his shirt. He couldn't even look at this creature without almost falling over. How deliciously terrifying. A sane man would not be excited by that level of vulnerability, by the fact that he might collapse at any moment and be totally helpless to any and all violation. Good thing he wasn't sane."You said that there is a difference between us," Z'uthralg reminded him."Yeah," Ryden cleared his throat, gathering his composure as much as he could. "Yeah, there is. You aren't a monster. That's the difference."
"…I am a shape-shifting entity with tentacles."
"That doesn't make you a monster. Trust me. I'd fucking know." With half-closed eyes, he reached forward. When his fingers met a slippery surface, he slid his palm onto Z'uthralg's winding limb, feeling it curl in response. "You feel so… clean. So goddamn innocent. You've never even killed before. Never deliberately caused pain. You've been alive for so fucking long, but somehow you've managed that? Nah. You aren't a monster just because of how you look. You're… good." He laughed the word, astounded. "Which is why I'm gonna take a risk."It didn't take long for him to undress, once Z'uthralg withdrew their many limbs. He was used to exposing himself, baring his body, but this felt different. When he was using himself as bait, reeling in prey, he was prepared for cruelty and ignorance. It hardly bothered him, because he never hungered for the approval in those moments. But right now, this was different.He wanted to be seen.Only when his hat, shorts, and shirt were crumpled on the floor did he go still, looking at Z'uthralg as directly as he could. It was strange, to feel exposed after such a long time, after using his body to the point that sex had become little more than mechanical. He stood nude in the middle of the room, feet apart, presenting himself without fanfare. His tail, occasionally flicking, unfurled to brush his calves. His furred ears, upright and alert. Blond hair dusted his skin, thicker across his chest and between his legs, catching sunlight which was made directionless and soft by hanging fabric. Z'uthralg's gaze moved over him, heated and omnipresent and inescapable, much like that yellow glow."What's the verdict?"
"Verdict?"
"Do you still see me as a man?"A blooming sensation, hovering in front of him like a gathering storm. A welling of emotion, of sadness. The question upset them.
"Of course. To think that anybody would say otherwise…"
"Many have," Ryden remarked dryly.The storm swelled and throbbed. The involuntary beginnings of a sob."Fuck. How are you this empathetic? I'm not used to anyone giving a shit." Ryden couldn't help sounding impressed. "I almost feel bad for upsetting you."A touch, against the hollow of his throat. Gentle and kind. Exploring. Moving down, past his sternum, past the faint scarring which decorated the edges of brown areolas, dipping into his bellybutton before following the rise of his public bone. A hesitation, until Ryden tilted his body in invitation. As bade, the tentacle stroked down the length of his small cock, drawing a groan from his throat."S'pose you could sense this even when I was clothed, huh," Ryden breathed the words.
"I sensed that you are a man. Anything else did not stand out."
"Right," Ryden said, his face hot. The tip of the tentacle found the warm, hungry hole which waited below his cock and, without hesitation this time, pushed inside. Ryden, lightheaded, instinctively reached out a hand to steady himself. He was immediately encircled, tentacles holding him, wrapping around his torso. Keeping him upright. An act of kindness, of caring, but also of determination. Z'uthralg held him still. There was a moment of resistance, and then the tentacle changed its angle, sliding deep.
"I have encountered many people like you. People with different bodies, different pasts. I always envied them."
Ryden looked down. His head was still spinning, just trying to perceive the tentacles which surrounded him. He wondered if that would ease over time, if he would become used to Z'uthralg's semi-corporeal form. He focussed enough to see the glimmer of sunlight against a wet, girthy length as it slowly, firmly moved deeper, disappearing inside him. Then he blinked, and all he could see was his naked body; spread legs and a heaving chest, with Z'uthralg utterly invisible, as if Ryden wasn't being penetrated at all. In one moment he was surrounded by a writhing mass of eel-like limbs, and in the next, he was standing alone in a bedroom, his belly rising with an inexplicable bulge, hole stretching around nothing."Wh… Why?" He was panting. "Why'd you envy them?""To know yourself so deeply… to have that strong an identity…I admire it. I wish I could experience that. I have no answers for what I am. This…" The tip of their tentacle rubbed against his insides for emphasis. "This only makes me want you more."Ryden's eyes were closed, his brows drawn together in a desperate frown, his cheeks flushed as he bit his lip. He breathed loudly as the tentacle withdrew by inches, then slid back inside. A vision swam through his mind; he could see himself through Z'uthralg's many eyes. He looked like a wanton, helpless, overwhelmed slut. The tentacle repeated the motions. Now, Z'uthralg was properly fucking him. The tips of Ryden's toes grazed the floorboards as his legs swung. He was being held like a rag doll."I find myself awed by you," Z'uthralg continued almost absent-mindedly.Ryden laughed, though it sounded more like gasping. He rocked into the creature's thrusts and asked, "Awed? Why?"
"You have forged your own path. Made a home in your body despite the resistance, the conflict, the struggle. You have incredible power. I envy that. I admire you. How hard you have worked, and what a sweet victory you have fought to enjoy. Every moment you live as yourself, as a man, you are dining on the fruits of your own persistence. How miraculous that you can manifest such a beautiful thing."
"Been a long time since I thought about any of it in… in- ah, ah fuck- such a serious way…!"
"How else might you think about your journey? About something so profound?"
"Well, you wanna-" A moan interrupted his words. "You wanna know how I chose my name?"
"I want to know it all."
Ryden fought to lift his arms. He reached them forward, trusting that Z'uthralg would meet him in an embrace, that he could curl his arms around their strange body and pull them close. They moulded themself to his affection, and he was hugging them tightly as he continued to speak with shivering words;"It was a long, careful process, finding- ah, hnn, ah- the right name with the right meaning for me… Something- fuck…! Something significant, something close to my heart and deeply personal… So, I originally decided to call myself Ryden 'cause…"They waited for him to speak. Suppressing a grin, he let the silence drag on.Finally, he whispered, "Because I really like ridin' dick."It took Z'uthralg a moment to realise that he was not joking. The tentacle, the otherworldly cock, that they had been fucking him with stilled, plunging deep into his hole and staying there. He whimpered at the sensation, shuddering even as a smirk claimed his mouth.
"You-"
"Yeah."
"...Ryden dick...?"
"You bet."
"I had no idea that such a decision could be so…"
"Who says it's gotta be serious every step of the way? What matters is, I chose the name. And I made it mine."Z'uthralg resumed fucking him. Faster, more urgent. The room swelled and glowed, colourful flavours dancing across Ryden's tongue, overjoyed sensations making him dizzy. He groaned and lifted both knees, folding his legs around Z'uthralg's undulating bulk, crossing his feet at the ankles. All he could do was hold on while the creature held him up in the air and fucked him hard.
"You are utterly delightful."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
With fingers spread wide against invisible skin, torso and thighs tightening as he swayed his hips, Ryden steered Z'uthralg toward the bed. The creature may have been the one to lower him down onto his back, may have loomed over him as though deliberately making him appear tiny by comparison, but the hybrid was the one calling the shots. He wanted to be fucked while supine, crushed down into a tiny space by a larger body, and his new companion provided without question."Ah, ah, ah, fuck, ah-"His knees were up around his shoulders, body practically folded in half, feet bouncing against a massive unseen back while he was fucked.A tentacle, so soft it was almost jelly-like, was draped across his eyes to keep them closed. Z'uthralg had felt pressure building behind Ryden's temples, the ache of trying to comprehend an incomprehensible creature. They had covered his eyes without explanation or permission, and Ryden had lain there and accepted it. There was power in that fact. Z'uthralg found that they rather enjoyed having such power. And they loved that he would give it up so willingly.His headache was a timid thing now, simmering but not overpowering. He was able to focus on the warmth, the pleasure. He'd been fucked by many things throughout his life, cocks and fingers and fists of all different textures, but never by anything as slippery and perfect as the limb which squelched back and forth into his body."Fu- uh, fuck, fuck… Feels fucking… amazing…!"Z'uthralg, about to respond with a similar sentiment, found themself distracted. Something was sitting on Ryden's bedside table; something which they had never encountered before. It was not dead, but it certainly was not alive. A small, rectangular receptacle which held the words of many, offering an artificial memory with no soul of its own. Moving pictures. A glowing screen, encased in a hard shell of inorganic matter. A brain without a mind. Something Z'uthralg did not understand.
"What is… that?"
Ryden's chest, slick with sweat, was rising and falling with frantic breaths. He'd been close to some kind of completion, Z'uthralg realised regretfully, but now he was distracted."…Huh? What're you looking at?"Z'uthralg uncovered his eyes, in the same moment using another tentacle to tilt his head to the side, directing his gaze away from their form. He lay still, panting loudly, looking around for the source of their confusion. When he realised what they were asking about, he said, "D'you mean my phone?"
"Phone…?"
"Yeah. A mobile phone?"Z'uthralg was silent. They absorbed his understanding of the rectangular thing, the so-called phone, and were momentarily overwhelmed by a startling realisation. He was the one to describe it directly when, with a fond smile, he said, "You don't know about technology… You've been disconnected from the world a whole lot longer than you thought, huh?""It seems so." It had always been a possibility that many centuries had passed while they were adrift, but having that suspicion confirmed was unexpectedly difficult. How terribly long they had been lifeless.There was a tinge of pain beneath them, accompanied by Ryden wincing. Z'uthralg covered his eyes once more.
"I am sorry."
"S'okay."Z'uthralg became aware, once more, of the hot clutch of his insides, the fact that they were buried within him. They pulled out slowly, then slid deeper. A whisper-quiet breath moved between his lips. The movement repeated, another shaky exhalation earned.
"I do not like hurting you."
"I do."
"You like that this hurts you? Just perceiving me?"
"I like that you're," he paused to moan, "in control. You could do anything to me.""I am doing anything to you.""Whatever you want," Ryden agreed.
"Whatever I want."
They continued fucking him, firmly and steadily enough that the bed creaked, but not as fast as they'd been pounding him before noticing the phone. His hands remained palm-up, curled into loose fists. Z'uthralg could feel blood flowing beneath his skin. Rivers of life, visibly throbbing at his wrists and neck. How easily they could end him."You'll be learning about the world all over again, huh? Now that—fuck—you're back in it," Ryden guessed, words puffing out from his open mouth.
"I suppose I will. I had not considered the implications of emerging from the water. I just knew I had to follow you."
Languid and slow, like a house cat warmed by the sun, Ryden mulled that over with a purring hum. When a tentacle moved along his arm, over his exposed wrist and into his palm, he closed his fingers against the tendril which threaded itself around his hand. For a while, the only noise was the creak, creak, creak of the bed, flavoured by the wet sounds of arousal. Ryden was contemplating the gravity of it all, the role he had unknowingly accepted. He had brought this creature back into the world. Even now, drunk on sex and dizzy from what Z'uthralg did to him, he knew there was no turning back. How could he abandon Z'uthralg now? More to the point, would Z'uthralg ever let him go?Big questions. Too big for him to properly entertain, not right now."My phone, it's- ah, fuck, ah, ah…! Technology like it is uncommon, outside cities…" He licked his lips, saliva leaving a shine. "It's pretty- pretty rare to have a personal cell, in villages like this."He kept having to pause and catch his breath. Z'uthralg, with no such need of their own, continued fucking him without pause.
"Yet you have a phone."
"I do."
"How did you get one?"
"You can't read my m- mind? Fuck… Fuck, fuck, get that- that info yourself?"
"Of course I could."
"But you don't want to?"A fierce thrust pushed Ryden up the bed. He yelped, head harmlessly knocking against the bed frame. Z'uthralg grabbed hold of his body and yanked him back down the mattress, doubling down and pounding him harder. When he shakily pressed a hand to his belly, he felt it bulge. His head was swimming. If he could see, the room would surely be tilting.
"I do want to. I want to explore every single thought, memory, and emotion I can possibly find within you. I want to probe your mind until I know everything. I want to penetrate you so deeply that I know which words you will speak before they even leave your mouth. But I will not."
"You w—unh—won't?"
"No. I will not take what you do not volunteer. And what you give freely… it means more."
"That's fucking cute."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. Maybe I'll keep you in suspense."
"With just this question?"
"With everything. Deny you. Tease you. Keep you hungry."
"I will be hungry regardless."
"Keep you ravenous."
"Shall I beg?"
Ryden grinned. Keeping this conversation going was taking immense effort, and the simpler part of him just wanted to cum, but he was enjoying himself. A tentacle traced his smile. This was the precise opposite of boring sex."Another time. For a prize more deserving than this- ah, ah, fuck, do that again. Fuck, fuck…"Z'uthralg, who had licked almost shyly at Ryden's cock, obediently unwound a dripping tongue and encircled his length. Having been encouraged, they sucked at him with enthusiasm."Fuck, yeah. Gods. Your mouth, your- your mouths…!" Ryden's voice was unsteady, and his laugh was breathless. "Okay, the—uh, uh, unh—phone… My doctor gave it to me. He sends me medical info on it. Like my- my testosterone levels.""Testosterone," they echoed. While basking in the warm glow of Ryden choosing to tell him this, to reveal these glimpses into his life, they absorbed what came with the spoken words. An understanding, a context to explain what he had said aloud. Testosterone. A hormone. Changes to his body, a deeper voice, a manifestation of what was already there. A synthetic blessing, a miracle of the modern science which Z'uthralg was yet to discover, housed in sterile little tunnels of plastic and steel.Ryden felt this understanding settle into Z'uthralg, felt the creature pull at the thread he had cut free. He also felt when Z'uthralg stopped pulling, when they let the fabric hang slack; they did not probe deeper than where the conversation had led."Ah, ah, ah-"
"Is it typical for a feline hybrid to be allowed to access hormones?"
"Nah, it's-" Ryden was fast losing his composure, which was quite the accomplishment. "My doctor, he stuck his neck out for me. Let me be- fuck, please, please…! Yeah, fuck, that's it. C'mon. I'm so close. Fuck." He swallowed hard, throat glistening. "Doc let me be an exception. A case study."
"He is special to you."
Ryden nodded. Curls were plastered against his forehead, body drenched in sweat and otherworldly slime and his own slickness, one hand clutching Z'uthralg's tentacle, the other flattened against his bulging tummy. He looked utterly ruined. He was."I apologise. I am so curious about you. I would ask questions forever. I sense… Are you close to a finish? To cumming," Z'uthralg had never used that word before.Ryden nodded again. Wordless now, with little energy left to resist or encourage the creature which was ramming between his legs. It was all too much for a mere mortal.
"What do I do? How can I… help?"
Even as they asked, the answer was apparent. He could not speak, but Z'uthralg didn't need him to. They fucked him rapidly enough that the bed buckled, its frame finally bowing to abuse, sucking hard on his cock as they extended a tentacle to rub behind his ear.