“Goddammit!” Robert watched under the high powered microscope as the antibodies broke apart inside of the petri dish before his very eyes, smashing his fist against the table before he flung the glass at the wall, where it shattered with a weak tinkle.
How could he work like this? At the Institute, he’d had literally billions of dollars worth of equipment at his disposal. The most brilliant minds in every niche of every related field available to consult with. An army of lab technicians. These were the tools used to develop the Legacy Virus.
How could he hope to find its cure in a damp, moldy, poorly lit basement with the equivalent of a kid’s chemistry set and a fucking microscope?
Time was running out. Robert could feel it. There was an urgency driving him forward everyday, even as he felt more and more hopeless about changing the outcome. In his mind, he saw a bright shining doorway holding all of his hopes, and a black, featureless door swinging slowly, inexorably shut.
As though his imagination had come to life, overhead a door slammed closed.
Did someone just leave the house..?!
“Meghan..?!” Zack’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “What… what happened to you..?”
Meghan basked with pleasure, standing on Zack’s doorstep under his gaze as he unabashedly ogled her from top to bottom. The too tight denim pants she’d been wearing on the last day of school were ironically too loose on her now and the even smaller waisted pairs she still had were far too short legged. So, she’d just cut the legs off and made them into daisy dukes that nicely showcased her long, toned legs. But the blouse she’d worn that day still fit fine—well, perhaps it was even tighter in some places than it had previously been, but that was no matter.
“Been working out,” she said casually, tossing her full blonde hair.
“‘Working out?’” Zack repeated dumbly.
“Yea,” Meghan replied lightly. “No more muffin top, see?”
Zack had been intently absorbed in the massive cleavage threatening to burst of out her shirt, but his attention was quickly diverted as she peeled her shirt up to just under her bust, her taut midsection flexing.
“Holy shit,” he whispered in quiet awe.
She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She felt her pussy starting to leak, knew she would be soaking her panties soon.
“‘Holy shit’ is right,” she breathed invitingly, her sky blue eyes trained on his. Her full lips parted, her tongue lightly protruding, and she leaned in closer. Her body thrummed with excitement, this extension of her old life reminding her just how much she had changed, knowing how much Zack wanted her now.
She felt so… powerful. The knowledge of the virus coursing through her bloodstream, the ability to spread, to infect. To change. Whomever she wanted to. Make them like her.
Zack was standing there in thrall, rapt. She need only lean over, kiss him with her full, luscious lips, slide her tongue into his mouth and then it would be done. He would be hers.
This would be so easy...
“Meghan?” A voice in the distance called over. Her father’s voice.
Startled, Meghan looked over her shoulder for a moment before turning back. Zack seemed not to have heard, still transfixed by her incredibly hot body, but she knew her dad wasn’t far off.
“Well, I gotta run,” she said abruptly, and the disappointment was comically clear on Zack’s face as she pulled her shirt back down, though it did not far exceed her own. With some reluctance, she turned and stepped off the porch before looking back and was not surprised to see his gaze now glued to her perfect, round ass barely concealed in the brief denim shorts. “Why don’t come you over though? Sometime soon?”
“Uh… Yea…” Zack stuttered, staring, his face still stunned with disbelief.
“Great! I’ll text you my address.”
She felt his eyes still on her ass as she reached the sidewalk, before looking back up at the house again with a flip of her golden tresses.
“Oh,” she added. “And why don’t you invite Crystal, too?”
“What were you thinking?!” Robert gripped his daughter’s upper arm more forcefully than he intended as he hauled her home, having finally found her walking towards him from some random street.
“Do you have any idea how risky it is to leave the house? Even for a minute?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Meghan said, though the tone in which she said it suggested that she wasn’t sorry at all.
“Don’t do that...” he said disgustedly, glad of his distracting anger for its accompanying ability to completely disarm his altered daughter’s seductive ploys.
“Do what,” she asked, looking up at him, her blue eyes innocently wide. “I am sorry, I know that I’ve been a bad, bad girl, Daddy…”
“Honestly, you really have been, Meghan,” he said sternly, responding to her literal words, refusing to acknowledge the intentions behind them. “Wait a minute...”
Robert abruptly yanked his daughter off the sidewalk, pulling her down between some shrubs.
“Dad, what’re you—”
A trio of men passed by, dressed in navy blue uniforms, pistols on their belts, chatting in monotone voices heavy with boredom. Robert rather thought he might have recognized one or two of them, especially the young pimply faced one.
Likely, they would recognize him on sight. And then it would be all over for him and his family, too.
He felt his daughter close by his side, breathing quietly, and knew her own gaze was trained on him, untroubled by his concerns. Instead thinking about… well, Robert could guess what was on her mind. What was always on her mind these days. And Christine’s. And Derek’s.
Once the soldiers had passed on a safe distance, he stood again, pulling his daughter up with an annoyed huff, deliberately stoking his own outrage and, as a result, his focus and resolve.
Walking outside in the daylight! In that outfit! Didn’t she know that she was a walking billboard for the infected? Her ripe, supple body, on full display...
Robert gave his head a shake. Damn it, this is why they were running out of time, he thought as
they approached their home. They were all cooped up in the house together. He needed to get out, get away from all of this too. Only he couldn’t just leave his transformed family unattended. They couldn’t be trusted on their own.
“You didn’t touch anyone, right?” he asked as they walked up to their front door, and the irony that he had asked his daughter this same question less than two months ago under completely different circumstances was not lost on him.
“I didn’t, Dad. Really.”
And though his daughter’s eyes were no longer the warm brown color of his own eyes, instead clear blue now like his wife’s, he was comforted by the genuine sincerity he saw in them.
“Good,” he said, turning the knob. “Great.”
But then, the next moment she was standing up close to him, her hand finding his, intertwining fingers. “I am sorry,” she said again. “I’ll make up it to you…”
Her voice went up an octave, soft, inviting, lewd. “However you want… Anything to make it up to you, Daddy…” Her big tits shoved up against him as she hugged his arm, her eyes holding an entirely different look now.
“Meghan…” Robert pulled his arm away. “Just… just go to your room…”
As she pranced up the stairs, he knew she was deliberately wagging her ass in those ridiculously tiny shorts for him. He heard her turn the knob of her bedroom door, and say with bright, mild surprise, “Oh, hi guys!”
The upstairs door shut and shortly thereafter, muffled thumps and moans could be heard drifting down the staircase.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Robert grumbled, going back down to the basement.