He didn’t know how close they were behind him, but he didn’t dare look. He could almost feel them closing in, feel the movement of the air on the back of his head as they swung at him, could feel the heat of their breath and the thumping of their feet. He was so tired, being grateful that he wasn’t fat but realizing just how out of shape he was. The air in his lungs felt more like hot embers, every tendon and muscle cord in his legs felt like a piano wire about to snap, his heart was struggling to keep up with the demand of his exertion, and his body was becoming numb as it was deprived of oxygen.
“Oh my god…” Jason gasped, his attention drawn to a mechanical whine above his head.
Punching through the gray cloud cover like Pai Mei through a wooden board, a passenger plane from Portland screamed as it plummeted out of the sky, on a collision course with the prison. Was this the true power of the Black Stigmata?! Could it really manipulate people or possibly even technology from miles away?! This couldn’t be possible! This was madness! Looking up to the falling plane, Jason increased his speed to his maximum, running for his life as the aircraft dropped lower and lower. In the back of his mind, he wondered what was going on in the cabin. Were the passengers killing and eating each other in an inhuman psychotic mess like the prisoners, or were they cowering in their chairs, fearful of what they knew was about to happen?
Finally reaching the outward-leaning section of the fence that had been bent over by the SWAT van, Jason jumped as high as he could onto it and gripped the wires. With the SWAT van beneath him, he scrambled up the inclined plane with what little strength he had left, counting the seconds as they ticked by. Tearing himself up on the barbed wire, he pulled himself over the top of the fence and landed on the roof of the SWAT van. Rolling off the vehicle and hitting the ground with a painful thud, he had just enough strength to push himself up and dare a look at the prison. Had he waited even a couple seconds more, he would have missed the show.
Like the lead Star Destroyer plunging into the Death Star in Return of the Jedi, the plane struck the heart of the prison and erupted into a fiery mushroom cloud. The plane had to have just taken off with full fuel tanks, because the tidal wave of fire that surged out in all directions made the flames of 9/11 look like a firecracker. While most of the energy of the explosion was released upwards in the mentioned mushroom cloud, a large portion was set off in all directions in a burning shockwave, traveling across the ground like a flash flood. In a single gargantuan upheaval, the entire prison complex around the impact point was lifted into the air as the shockwave tore through the foundations of every building like a flaming sword. For maybe a millisecond, the buildings hung suspended before crumbling in the burning tempest rising up from the blast.
The shockwave continued expanding with the blade of fire crawling across the ground with unstoppable speed. Shooting through the yard, the flames enveloped every guard and prisoner, killing most of them instantly and ripping their bodies apart, but simply lighting the rest on fire. With their deaths guaranteed, the survivors staggered as living funeral pyres. They eventually gave in to the flames and burned to death, or had the life beaten out of their flame ridden bodies when the wreckage and debris of the prison began to rain back down like a storm of mortar rounds. The explosion lost most of its energy by the time it reached the edge of the yard, and any remaining flames or pressure were deflected by the SWAT van, finally giving Jason a lucky break.
Getting to his feet, he looked out at the sea of flames before him, wondering how many people had died. About to turn around and begin running away in case there were any crazed survivors, he was brought to his knees by a familiar crashing sound boxing his ears, the same crash he heard in all of his nightmares.
“No, not now!” Jason cursed, gripping his skull as a red miasma stifled his vision like a layer of blood across his eyes.
Jason shuffled down the dark street, each breath carrying an animalistic hiss to it. He was no longer in control of his body or aware of his surroundings; his mind was in the possession of the Black Stigmata. Now serving as an unwilling tool of the relic’s inhuman will, his eyes swiveled back and forth as he looked for someone to victimize. The whites of his eyes had now become scarlet from the swelling and inflammation of the veins just below the surface, his arm had stopped bleeding but was covered in a thick black crust, and even with the frigid chill in the air, his breath would not fog. All sense of who he was had been taken, he no longer knew his name or had any memories. It had taken him half a day to get to Portland from the prison, and he was filled only with the desire to torture and kill.
The street was empty on this night and no cars were driving around. Word had spread of the prison riot in the distance and the possible escapees, so the citizens of Portland were in hiding. Looking ahead, he saw a woman step out into the night. Early to mid twenties, black hair tied back in a messy bun, and tight workout clothes, she had just stepped out of the gym and was locking the door behind her. An owner? The sight of this woman made Jason’s stomach rumble and his throat tremor with unbearable thirst. But he had to be careful and stalk his prey before she could become his meal.
Keeping his distance but never letting her leave his sight, he followed her down the lamp-lit street. There were ear-buds in her ears and she showed no sense of alertness or alarm, probably meaning she had not heard about the prison. Regardless, Jason made sure his steps were silent and there was always covering nearby for him to duck behind. He watched her like a hawk, feeling his desires intensify as his eyes fed on every succulent detail. In her tight black yoga pants, her skinny legs steadily thickened to a taught rear end, heavily toned with muscles earned from hours of working out. Even from a hundred feet back and with only the light of the streetlamps, he could see the outline of her thong nestled between her iron-hard ass cheeks, and he could see the waistband just barely coming out above her pants. He hadn’t been able to tell how large her breasts were when she stepped outside; they had looked moderate at most. Hopefully they were large enough to sink his teeth into. Her body was so lean and taut, while showing just a few remaining pockets of delicious fat. If she hadn’t heard about the prison, then she likely had been at the gym all day, working out obsessively. Perfect, she would have no strength to fight against him.
Reaching into her purse, the woman drew her car keys and clicked the alarm. Down the street, her hand-me-down Subaru beeped and lit up as all the locks were released. Now was the time! Seeing the woman approaching the car, Jason increased his speed, running silently towards her and hoping his prey wouldn’t look back and see him. Just as the pretty piece of meat was about to step down off the sidewalk and into the street, Jason reached her and punched her in the face with all of his strength. The force of the impact popped all of Jason’s knuckles out of place, but so too did it succeed in knocking the woman out and sending her tumbling to the cold pavement without so much as a yelp.
While his knuckles popped back into place without him even having to acknowledge the injury, Jason grabbed the woman and threw her into the passenger seat of the car, proceeding then to tie her up with the seatbelt and stuff a sock from her gym bag into her mouth to gag her. His prey now captured, he took the woman’s keys and climbed into the driver’s seat. He drove off with a screech, laughing to himself in anticipation.
The woman opened her eyes and immediately began to struggle as soon as her mind perceived the sensation of rope around her wrists. Though technically, it was the passenger seatbelt from her car. She was laid out on the hood of her car, feeling the warm metal against her back. The air was cold and smelled like low tide, and sparse trees could be seen around her location. The sky was bright enough for her to at least see silhouettes, but that was only due to the light pollution of Portland, of which the outskirts she was in.
Her eyes were fixed on Jason, lying on top of her with a savage grin on his face. It wasn’t the situation that terrified her most, it was the fact that his eyes were glowing red like two hot coals, clearly visible in the dark evening. Seeing her eyes open, Jason began to laugh. With the Black Stigmata possessing his mind with unchallenged power, he had been waiting for her to wake up. Torturing her brought no joy if he couldn’t see her pain. The woman began to writhe and struggle desperately, wanting more than anything to get out from under Jason and run away as fast as she could.
Moving his hand up, Jason cupped one of her breasts, chilled from the evening exposure. Her nipples were both fully erect in these temperatures, poking up through both her bra and pink tank top. Tears streamed down the woman’s eyes as he fondled her, knowing what awaited her if this man wasn’t stopped. With malicious strength, Jason tore away her shirt and bra, leaving the woman with nothing to cover her breasts with but her bound arms. Grabbing her wrists, he forced her arms up over her head and held them pinned against the top of the Subaru windshield. Through the sock stuffed in her mouth, the woman whimpered and tried to beg for Jason to spare her, but continuing to laugh, he leaned forward and licked the tears off her face.
As a puppet of the Black Stigmata, her whimpers were music to his ears and the taste of her tears filled him with a heroine-like euphoria. Moving downwards, he ran his tongue down her smooth face, her soft throat, and across her chest. The woman shuddered with disgust as his tongue flicked her nipples over and over again, playing with them as if only to taunt her. As he worked his tongue across her chest, he moved his other hand between her legs, feeling the lips of her pussy through the thin fabric of her yoga pants. Under the circumstances, she was dry as a bone, but eventually her body would betray her and she would loosen up.
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