File #3: Briefing
For the next three minutes, they wrestled me into submission, sedated me again with some tranquilizers and convinced me to calm down.
More people arrived, the nurse swore quietly as she fussed around me, and the man who shot Agatha, observing me, suddenly declared with satisfaction:
"Look at all that stupid bravery. Yes, he’ll do."
Well, that’s one hell of a compliment!
"Do? For what?" I growled, still trying to break free.
"I can tell you. If you stop acting like an idiot and listen to what we have to say."
"Why don’t you go fu..."
"My time is limited," Agatha’s killer interrupted, "I’m expected to service a very lovely blonde whose luscious body is in desperate need of some lead. If you want to know what happened to your wife, sit down and listen."
"She’s not my wife," I retorted automatically, glancing again at the nearly naked girl lying on the table. I had to admit, she looked... perfectly fresh, so to speak. She didn’t resemble a corpse that had been dead for any length of time – she even had a blush on her cheeks.
"But you’re ready to fight for her. Fine by me. Release him," the shooter ordered. "You’re dismissed, leave the three of us. If he tries to start a fight again, I’ll deal with him myself."
We looked into each other’s eyes.
"If your explanation doesn’t satisfy me, I’ll definitely start something.”
The man (whom I mentally nicknamed Shooter in a fit of dark humor) smirked.
"Deal."
_____________
"I won’t drag this out, here are the facts: in our world, there’s a clandestine syndicate of bisexual (with a strong lesbian inclination) girls and women. Beautiful women. Sexy women. Gorgeous, just like this one," he nodded at Agatha’s body, "...against whom fights a special service of secret killers – that’s us. You’re currently at one of our support bases. Fucking welcome aboard."
I blinked.
"So, satisfied?" he asked. "Any questions?"
"Yeah. I’m wondering: are you mocking me or is the tranquilizer still in effect?"
"Funny," the Shooter said, lighting a cigarette, "but you’re actually supposed to ask: what’s so dangerous about these lesbians that they’re being killed without mercy, in droves? Let’s pretend you asked. Tanya will answer."
I looked around: it turned out Tanya was our nurse. Or maybe I got it wrong, and she’s our local scientist? Who the hell knows.
In any case, Tanya approached, looked at Agatha’s naked body (thoughtfully running her finger along the girl’s belly with professional interest) and said:
"You see... there’s a catch: these aren’t quite ordinary girls. It’s like they’ve been reprogrammed. The same hardware, but with different software, you understand?"
"I don’t understand shit right now."
"Alright, in scientific terms – these girls are something like genetically modified women with a range of unusual psychological and physiological traits."
"What traits? And what does this have to do with that bastard shooting Agatha?"
Tanya continued to look at the dead red-haired girl like an exhibit.
"Everything," she said, "I’ll list these traits, and you think: does this remind you of anything? Let’s go from the least significant to the most significant..."
---------------------
It was like a very strange scientific lecture. Tanya stood over Agata's body and spoke, occasionally touching the deceased:
1. They wear the most sexually enticing, revealing clothes, mostly just erotic lingerie. They feel psychologically very uncomfortable, almost tormented, when fully dressed – that's why they mostly base themselves in brothels, erotic massage parlors, strip clubs, underground "safe houses" like apartments and houses they rent in groups where they can freely walk around half-naked – in short, in all places where their habit of wearing only lingerie doesn't raise any questions.
2. These girls have an insanely high libido, an obsession with sex, which they need almost to sustain their lives – if such a girl hasn't slept with anyone for a long time, she can literally get sick. Therefore, they usually live in groups (always able to sleep with each other) and mostly work in fields related to sex. Prostitution, striptease, massage parlors, escort services, all that.
3. They have no moral boundaries: friends, colleagues, even sisters calmly sleep with one another.
4. They (mostly) are not even aware that they are different from regular girls. They just don't think about it. They sincerely believe that all their behavioral changes are the result of their own choices, changed views, and so on. Their views, by the way, are simple: they need to "recruit" all women, reformat society to fit them, come out of the underground. They apparently often consider themselves revolutionaries or liberators...
I looked at the girl like she was insane. A minute ago, she was blushing and embarrassed listening to a recollection of simple bedroom role-play, and now she was calmly spouting some nonsense far too wild for me to take seriously.
...The reason for all this is explained by the fifth and most important feature, which conditions the first three: they can “turn” regular girls simply by sleeping with them once. What is this: hypnosis, transmission of a special nanovirus, some special pheromones or an almost supernatural ability to reprogram a woman's brain – we don't know yet. But this is their main trump card and main threat: this way they expand their ranks, recruiting regular girls, replenishing their constantly dwindling numbers. Once a girl is recruited – that's it, she is one hundred percent on their side, no former attachments or norms of decency can hold her back.
“So,” - Shooter spoke up, - “to summarize. We have an underground group of half-naked, unscrupulous, insanely sexy fanatics, lesbian or bi nymphomaniacs, hungry and greedy for sex, who want to turn the entire female population of the planet into themselves”.
“Who actively operate in strip clubs, massage parlors, brothels,” - added Tanya, - “where there is a simple and accessible opportunity to seduce any client...|
“Well, any who are susceptible, anyway. Those ‘witnesses’ who refuse can easily be killed. Why the surprised look? Did you think only we do that?”
Tatyana nodded.
“He's right. They kill as ruthlessly as we do, only in our case it's self-defense. But never mind. These are all psychological changes, and there are a couple of physiological ones.”
6.”They cannot get pregnant. At all. Apparently, their reproductive system has changed a bit and is now focused on that very "turning" through sex. How it works – we don't know yet.”
7. “These girls are incredibly beautiful and become even more so after turning. Once turned, their figures improve, they age much more slowly, and their already mentioned sky-high libido... They take great care of themselves, choose the sexiest lingerie sets and outfits, worry about always looking as appealing as possible, many enhance their breasts.
8. ”For some reason, many of them start lactating. This is no longer related to pregnancy – but it is quite common among the girls we neutralize. For example...”
Tanya suddenly grabbed one of Agata's tits and unceremoniously squeezed it – and to my amazement, besides a couple of streams of blood, white liquid squirted from her nipple.
___________
"...so, as you can see, this one too."
I was still staring at the dead girl, her chest literally drenched in blood and milk. Everything that was said didn't fit in my head and resembled some kind of fantastical B-movie, but one piece of evidence had just been vividly demonstrated to me.
"So, Agatha is one of these sluts?"
"Exactly," Tatiana nodded, wiping her hand with a paper towel, "but I think only recently. I'm really sorry, truly! She was probably a good girl..."
"But... how? She didn't... she never..."
"I understand," the nurse gently prompted me, "but it's a fact, turns out she had lesbian sex. Where and when - we can't know. Did you notice any changes in her recently?"
"No, I didn't notice anything... until tonight."
"So, in her case, the transformation happened quickly. Interesting..." Tatiana stared at Agatha thoughtfully, as if she was an unsolved mystery.
The Shooter, having finished his cigarette, suddenly leaned forward:
"Kid, it's a pity about your girl, but she's not the point. Do you get what the problem is? Think about it."
Thinking was difficult due to the tranquilizer and the influx of information, but I grimly said:
"The problem is that she went off the deep end because of this 'transformation' and tried to kill me."
"Uh-huh. Not quite, though it's better than the usual answer..."
"And what answer do you usually get?"
Tanya blushed slightly again and answered instead of the man:
"Well, mostly: 'so, we've got a bunch of sexy chicks craving sex and jumping on our dicks. What's the problem? Why not let them take over the world?'"
I laughed involuntarily. Well, it made sense.
"I probably would've said something similar if it weren't for my circumstances." Tanya gave me a look that clearly said, "you men are such predictable idiots."
Shooter, taking a drag, finished the thought:
"And the problem is very simple. These girls, if left alone, will replace the regular female population at a geometric rate. That's their main goal: to convert all broads to their ranks, after which they can take control of the world and finally come out of the shadows."
"And we'll go extinct as a species," the nurse added.
"But that's a minor detail. Any questions?"
---------
I was honestly trying to fit the new information into my head:
"Alright, but why don't they just come out of the shadows right now? They let you kill them with impunity while they're in hiding. Do I get it right?"
"It's not that simple. Remember: they don't need to integrate into our world, they need to completely reformat it for themselves, which they're successfully doing. Why reveal themselves prematurely? They recruit new followers through the bed as it is. But they'll gain a huge number of new enemies... They'd just get openly slaughtered, and they know it."
"Okay. So why don't we just expose them, since it all lines up so nicely? Let them get slaughtered."
The Shooter exchanged a look with the nurse.
"Remind me why we're even fighting them?" he asked.
"To survive?"
"In other words: to preserve our world. Now imagine a world where a woman is automatically a potential enemy, a half-naked woman is a threat, and a seductive woman is a one hundred percent foe... How does that sound? Can you foresee the consequences?"
I snorted.
"Well, I think the consequences would be shitty."
"That's putting it mildly. How many regular girls will die by mistake? How many women will be framed by their envious peers, longtime enemies? Husbands tired of their wives? Workplace rivals? Jealous lovers? What's to stop someone from waiting until she undresses, putting a bullet in her chest, and saying, 'she tried to kill me, she must be one of them'?
“And collateral losses aren't the only problem. Our enemies will gain advantages in this chaos: someone might start keeping them for personal use, recruiting them for sale to rich guys. The mafia will start kidnapping ordinary girls, deliberately turning them into insatiable, horny sex dolls - and that's just off the top of my head."”
Tatiana continued:
"The status quo suits both us and them. Yes, they suffer losses, but they also replenish them! Your Agatha became their next victim... They actively seduce everyone they can: lonely girls, clients at their salons, thrill-seekers, suddenly coercing their longtime girlfriends and acquaintances into sex... they really want this! And to expand their influence (and sometimes just for pleasure and to satiate their instinct), they don't hesitate to sleep with prominent men. By the way, they very eagerly try to seduce their killers. They're still afraid of dying... as you probably saw with your girl. Blinded by their new instinct, they try very hard to save their lives by thoroughly satisfying the kille...” - she looked disapprovingly at the Shooter, - “which many take advantage of..."
"Listen, there should be at least some benefit from these sluts!" he snapped, "it's dangerous and hard work, our guys are stressed, let them get some relief at least!"
"It's not about stress, your people treat these killings as entertainment! They make bets, keep scores, and boast about the 'hottest eliminations' in the break room, do you think that's normal?!"
"Our job is abnormal in general, and professional deformation is more your...” - I interrupted the argument, which had evidently been going on for a long time:
"And how bad is it? How close are these lesbo-whores to their goal? Are there millions, billions of them already?"
"Lesbo-whores" elicited mixed reactions: Shooter clearly liked it, Tanya - not so much. She glared at me with a look that seemed to hint I had just insulted Agatha, whom I had supposedly been mourning.
I was still mourning, but now I looked at her slightly differently. I needed answers.
____________
"No, they are still far from such scales... and for that, you can thank us. We actively track down and kill all members of this lesbo-syndicate because we want to protect the normal, regular female half of humanity.
“In fact, we tracked down your girl recently - she was in contact with a slut who has long been on our radar. She asked for help in killing you - she was afraid that you would kill her if she failed. After that, it was just a matter of technique... We heard in her phone conversation that she was arranging a meeting 'at my apartment,' quickly checked the address in the database," he looked at Tanya, "the database, of course, froze... Which cost us a lot of time, but I barely made it to the right place. Barely. If you hadn't been late yourself... I don't need a 'thank you.'”
"But... why did she even try to kill me?" I finally asked the main question. The answer was still unclear, even with all the new information.
"You can find out for yourself," the Shooter finally finished his cigarette and rudely put out the butt on Agatha's chest. Testing me, the son of a bitch... "I can give you the address of that slut your girl called. But on one condition - that you work for us. Specifically - for me, as I will be your boss. Otherwise, we'll handle her ourselves."
"Hmm. Let's clarify right away: this, as you said, slut... do I have to kill her?"
"Well, yeah," the Shooter said carelessly, "and not just her, but a bunch of other, as you put it, lesbo-sluts."
"Interesting. And why do you think I would agree to this? I'm not used to shooting women, especially half-naked ones."
"First, it's a simple skill, you'll learn quickly," the Shooter replied. I gave him the right nickname, it seems... "Secondly: I don't think anything. I'm just offering you a choice: either you try to find out who and how dragged your girl into this women's syndicate, and maybe punish the guilty one... Or we'll erase your memories of recent events and return you to your normal life. From your point of view, Agatha will just disappear without a trace. I can't promise that her associates won't try to avenge her - but that's your problem. I can't save your life twice."
"Hmm. You can erase memories? How many more tricks do you have up your sleeve?"
"Quite a few, but you'll only learn the details if you join us."
"Got it. So. One last question... for now. Why do you call it a syndicate? Is that their self-designation?"
The nurse replied:
"Yes and no. Their society combines different strip clubs, brothels, and the aforementioned massage parlors... That's why it’s a 'Syndicate.' Rank-and-file members use this term very rarely, it's not certain that they even know about it. Girls at the level of strip club owners use it, but we don't think they have any centralized leadership... it seems to us that it's a set of loosely connected collectives and groups... they spread their influence on their own, out of internal desire, not by order of a single boss. But we don't know for sure. We still know very little about them. Maybe you can help us find out."
"In any case," the Shooter concluded, standing up, "your girl died because someone from our side failed to kill another slut in time, who then involved Agatha in the Syndicate. An unpleasant thought, right? Now think about how many more ordinary, normal women - like your Agatha (not this one with bare tits on the autopsy table, but the one you knew) - will die if you don't join us."
I was still hesitating.
"I understand, it's a hard choice, but we don't have time to think long. Sit here for about ten minutes alone, with your girl's body. Then we'll come back, and you'll tell us what you decided."
I looked at the body of my former girlfriend as if by command. The nurse and the Shooter headed for the exit. The girl gave me a sympathetic look.
"Oh, and one last thing," the Shooter turned from the door, "our Tanya forgot to mention one more physiological feature of these girls."
Tanya blushed deeply and gave the Shooter a withering look. Against my will, I became interested: what else could have caused such a reaction from her, after everything that had been said?
"It's not at all necessary..."
"What feature?" I interrupted her.
"These girls not only age much more slowly," the Shooter said, looking at Agatha's stocking-clad legs, "they also, for some reason, retain their 'marketable' appearance for much longer after death than ordinary people. Your girl, for example, has been dead for 4 hours. She’s still good as new."
I looked at Agatha again - she really did look alive. So, I hadn't imagined it.
"This applies to all parts of the body. Including the intimate ones," he yawned, ignoring the crimson-faced nurse, who was angrily staring into space, "you can say goodbye to her, there are no cameras here. The table, by the way, is heated."
________________
My girlfriend's pussy was still as tight as the last time, and I hadn't seen it this wet in a long while. It seemed like her body still craved sex, just like it did last night (only 4 hours ago!), when she was rubbing her crotch against me...
I threw Agatha's legs, still clad in stockings, over my shoulders, occasionally kissing her knees and thighs. Her feet hung limply behind my back, sometimes hitting me with her heels – as if she was trying to resist. Probably, she really didn't like the outcome of her little deadly trap...
Her breasts, even after being riddled with bullets, retained their firmness and shape, bouncing in rhythm with my movements. I squeezed one of them, which responded with streams of warm blood from the numerous holes and another brief spurt of milk.
I fucked her for a long time, passionately and without pity – firstly, Agatha didn't need any, and secondly, I viewed this body not as the Agatha I knew – I would never have allowed to treat her this way.
I looked at the sexy body as the Agatha who cold-bloodedly tried to kill me.
"Too bad you're late... I would have had fun with you..." - I remembered her seductively relaxed remark before she made the first stab with the knife. I leaned down to Agatha's face, kissed her lips greedily, and mentally replied:
"Well, baby, I still found the time and opportunity... are you happy with the result? Everything didn't go according to your plan, such a shame. At that moment, above me, with a knife in your hands, haughty and confident – could you have thought that just a couple of hours later, I would be fucking your dead body here, in this lab, while you would be jiggling your bullet-riddled tits in front of me?"
I felt that this thought was bringing me to the climax of our last date. It seemed like she was about to respond to the kiss...
"Hello. I was sent to ask what you deci... oh..."
The nurse's voice from the door was so expressive that I didn't even need to turn around to see her flushed face. At that very moment, I finally came... as violently as I hadn't in a long time.... and this redheaded bitch used to drain me dry even before...
I pulled my cock out of Agatha – thick, hot white liquid immediately started flowing from her overfilled pussy – and, breathing heavily, I turned to the nurse, who stood frozen in the doorway with a look of absolute confusion, shame, indignation, and – I swear – hungry curiosity.
"Yes," I said, carelessly tossing Agatha's legs off my shoulders, "tell your boss that I'm taking the job."
The nurse stared at me, unblinking, unable to utter a word.
"I need the address of that slut he mentioned."
