The calm before the storm. Of course, she was going to be the thunder, the lightning, and the rain. I'm coming for you, Jason. Be patient. A flower takes time to bud. But the anticipation of it all! It was mind gripping, insanifying to a tenth degree. How much wait could there be? She was ready, completely had her heart set on what her goal was, and now, the goal must be reached.
Her lines were rehearsed, her tone ready. She would refuse to acknowledge his presence for a moment, instead acting as if she were waking from a deep nap. The simplicity of the act would be momentous. Hey, honey, I'm home. I see you're napping. How are you doing? Did you sleep well? To stay calm was to become something beautiful: a fly trap. Venus as a fly trap.
He would be speechless, that she was sure of it. As to the source, it could be attributed onto two different levels: fear or arousal. With luck, it would be a combination of both. She wanted to be desired…but she also wanted the fear of desiring to affect him. Any moment that he could suffer, in any small way…it made her hot.
She would explain, then, as to how this miracle growth has been accomplished. Self-glorification was the key. Narcissism. A study had once showed that the average man liked women who were more dominant in their expression of confidence. It gave them a power and authority that brought on that fear element, and men liked being in danger. Insanity was, perhaps, the most sensual of arts.
She would explain what the chlorophyll had did to her skin, would even throw in a small lie as well: that her blood had been replaced with aloe, the genus of plant most succulent. This alone would drive a psychological force into play. How could this be? Aloe overtaking in a dominance over blood cells? You've mutated beyond the common biological form! If he could believe that her blood was truly reborn as aloe, then that would set the fear element within him, because it would affirm that he was looking at no human. And why would she insult herself with such a title anyway? Human? Oh, no, she was far beyond that! Jason, after all, would not be the last human to die. No. She had plans. Had forged these plans long before this wondrous transformation.
Her plan was to give life. And to give life, it would require murder. So…much…murder.
It tingled her, it truly did. Such a thought, such a beautiful idea. She wondered what it would like, when she forced herself upon Woodrue. She wondered how it would taste when she pressed her lips against his, biting down and forcing the hemotoxin down his throat? She wondered what it would sound like, as he began to choke… and shut down …and pass from this life…
Calm your thoughts now, Ivy. But she could not! How could she! There was that warmth down there, that feeling of arousal brought on by these ideas. It was more than she could bare, and her hands were trembling at the thought. Just what was she going to do afterwards? How was she going to bring the dream into a reality? She placed a trembling hand over her torn shorts, trying to steady the hormones that were raging below. She could feel the pheromones now, could smell them in the air. Her body truly was releasing them! And she was getting taken by them! A victim, a slave to her own charm! I won't lay here and lie to myself. I'm in love.
Her brain was sizzling. She could feel the different chemical combinations taking place inside of her body, and the idea of it alone was more than her heat could take. She had to do it! Soon! Sooner than soon! The anticipation was overwhelming. She had to see if she could truly enjoy Woodrue's murder. If the idea alone brought on such arousal…what would the act do?
"Suppose…I did it now…" she whispered to her children. The plant raised themselves high as she spoke to them, and she could feel their unease. Unease at the fact that they too must wait to bring their mother into ascension.
Vasocongestion… even in the dark, she knew it was there. And she could feel it! It was the excitement phase, as they called it, labeled as such: "…muscle tension and blood flow increase in and around the sexual organs, heart and respiration increase and blood pressure rises…" The lubrication and the swelling were also applicable elements to the situation at hand. Of course, she was a botanist, and where she was studied in the active machinations of the human processes, the more subtle idea, closely hidden beneath her human nature that she must destroy, pondered as to the question of why this experience was tied to the chemical effects. Never had she suffered from paraphilia…surely, never…
She had walked down the forest path, kicking up dirt onto her bare feet to feel nature so close to her….
She had always been normal, always been secure in her desire to remain on social, human terms…
And she had spotted a patch of bluebell, near an old oak…
The idea of paraphilia alone had always detested her. Why must people reveal their animal nature? They were caretakers to Mother Nature, and must fit their expected roles accordingly…
Looking both ways down the way to ensure that she was alone among the vegetation and true animals, she lay down beside him, caressing the Bluebell flowers closely…very closely…
If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she would never allow for herself to fall victim to the strange-
…placed the petals in her mouth…
unhealthy-
-tucked larges masses of the flowers underneath her summer dress-
sexual-
-pleasured herself with the corpse of the flower that she picked from the Earth in sacrifice for her indulgence…
paraphilia. Yes, she had never, ever been into that sort of thing….no….she could never have been…
Tears fell down her face. So, yes, she had been a testament of this despicable animalistic tendencies, but she had did it for her "goddess"! Nature! Mother Nature desired total subjection, and she had given Nature everything. Nine years of college, countless hours dedicated to Environmental Re-establishment Projects… and now, this place, where she had worked for years in loyal, unending attempts to give plants exactly what they needed to fight back against mankind, to retake this plant as was right!
"Ah, it's you!"
Her heart jumped, her eyes snapping open from her thoughts. There was a voice, somewhere above. A voice that she knew all too well. An excited, yet also skittish voice, slightly gritty but more endowed with the energy of a pleased schoolboy. A grin flashed across her face as she heard that voice, above, and she stroked the vines that stood beside her lovingly.
"Now is the time, babies…help me ascend…"
The plants were quick to obey. She felt the masses swirling around her feet, pushing her upwards as they burrowed beneath her. Pushing her up. Her control over the plants, in whatever way that it had come, would give her a literal ascension. She took a breath, enjoying the heat that was running its course through her. Now is the time…
"what's that…yes sir, I am so pleased that you won the bidding, your Supreme ruthlessness…" He was right above her. She heard the plants above her hiss, and the hiss was of pain. He had stepped on one of them. Her shaking hand gripped into a fist.
"Bring me up, babies." She stroked her lips fondly. Her poisonous lips.
"We're making the final modifications right now, and you'll have a flawless supersoldier sent out, by overnight mail…"
Of course, this was the last thing that Jason Woodrue said to the man on the other line, before distraction got the better of him. As she rose, her plants carrying her upward, their strength combined a moment of impure pride for their "Mother", she was flying upward. As she moved, the pheromones practically exploded from her body, and the signal was as such that it radiated through a long strand of ivy reaching out of this dark hole. And that chemical reaction caused a mass release of the pheromones from the ivy as well, and when it came, it came in the form of a powerful, gaseous magenta light. The light swelled in her eyes as she breathed in the smell, and she basked in the self-gratifying glory that it brought.
And then, she expelled. She burst through the thick layer of ivy that had covered her grave, and as she broken through, she sighed with delight. To feel her children scraping down her arms like that was something of a defining moment. She breathed the fresh air above her plants brought her right into the lab where her false life had ended. The plant held her at bay, their strength for the Mother not daring to come close to failing her.
Her first truly welcoming sight within the dim carcass of her lab was Woodrue, standing there speechless as he beheld her. She saw him drop to his knees, his crazed white and black tuft of hair glistening in the pink light as the pheromones overwhelmed him. She smiled, closing her eyes and beginning the act. She stretched out her arms and moved her curves ever so seductively, like a swaying branch in a soft wind, and she moaned. It had always been common knowledge that a sensual moan of positive approval to arousment worked wonders for a man's infatuation, raising blood pressure levels by 50%, in some cases.
"D-Dr. Isley?" His voice was weak was he said it, but this acknowledgment only made her happier. His voice suggested disconnection. The first stage of the fear element, that being unsure.
She responded to him not with words, but with an inquiring moan. Like a woman awaking from a deep sleep, asking her lover to repeat himself without words.
"Pamela?" Oh this was too easy. He was eating right into the salad. Now, for the dressing.
"Um-hm," she offered him, and the tone of her voice suggested a desire to be naughty. She opened her eyes, looking down at him. How fitting that he should be there, where he belonged. Below her. But she wanted her sprawled across the floor, a corpse of a man. Even as he knelt she could still see the activity happening within the confines of her slacks. There was no subtlety as to the mindless effect she had over him. The pheromones were everywhere, and he was never going to leave this room again. The floating spores sealed his death warrant.
"You look great…especially for a dead woman!" She raised her eyebrow. Was that supposed to be his attempt at comedy? No… no, not comedy. Assurance. It was all in phycology. Jokes could put one into a state of relaxation, even build up for lack of security. The second stage of fear, then: shielding. Well, enough contemplation. The heat of the plan was overwhelming her and she had to kill soon. The sooner she killed, the sooner she could stimulate herself and end the torment within.
"Hello, Jason," she almost whispered to him, her voice calm and collected. "I think I've had a change of heart…or quite, literally." It was so hard, not to laugh. He looked so dumbstruck. The animal was actually crawling on his knees towards her, staring up at her with such reverence…with such worship… "The animal plant toxins had a rather unique effect on me." She raised one of her vine wrapped arms to show him. What was this new smell? Something was mixing in with the pheromones. Was it coming from him? "They replaced my blood with aloe…" There it was! She saw his eyes widen, only slightly, of course, but still affirmed nonetheless. The third stage and final stage: fear. Absolute fear. But the pheromones kept him coming for her, and she absolutely loved his infatuation. Come on…just a bit closer… The hemotoxin upon her lips was burning, ever so slightly. It was as if it knew he was coming, and that it was going to get to claim a life… "My skin was chlorophyll…"
She reached down and grabbed his face, pulling him upward. The fear had set in finely now. His lips were trembling and he looked scared, and she could hear the smallest guttural sounds emitting from his mouth. It sounded as if he were already choking on the venom. But that was fixing to come. Be patient for a few more seconds, Jason…
"And filled…" Her heart broke, but with happiness. "…my lips…" His lips were so close now. She could smell his foul breath. He had recently drunk something alcoholic in nature, perhaps as a celebratory recognition for his achievement over Antonio Diego… she must simply take that joy away now. She forced her lips against his now, the French of her kiss overwhelming his gums as tongue lashed against tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them slowly as sweet satisfaction overcame her senses. She focused all of her energy now upon the poison that coated her lips, and…yes! She could feel it! A small, hot bubbling. The faintest sizzling noise. Her poison was working its magic. To keep him enticed, she forced herself forward, against his hardness. That drove him beyond his limits. Woodrue's mind and body began to snap in unison, and she could feeling. He was dying in her arms!
She pulled back, aroused at what she had just did. But she had to break it to him now. "…with venom…" She smiled at him, relishing the idea of his reaction. And as she had predicted, his face suddenly shifted. In a moment, all happiness turned to terror, as his eyes widened. The smallest noise emitted from his mouth again, but this time, it sounded as if he were struggling for breath. She had to play with him some more.
"Oh, and Jason, one other thing." She snorted, but silently. "I probably should have mentioned this earlier." He was gagging, choking to death on the hemotixin that she had given him. She saw his tongue stick out for a moment as he opened his mouth wide, letting out a loud, strange sort of belching sound. It had turned green, a powerful shade testament to the toxicity of her kiss. Her heart broke again, and she almost cried with the happiness that took her. She truly was, without a doubt… "I'm…poison." She prodded him with her finger, hard. Timber, she thought. Jason Woodrue let out on last noise, something that sounded like balloon's helium released, a sort of soft, gentle scream as poison corroded his throat, and she watched him, her skin on edge, as Jason Woodrue fell backward, hitting the floor hard. Saw his eyes glazed over, and his body stop jerking. Dead. Stone dead.
The heat that rushed into her overwhelmed her to the point of breaking and she had to fan the air around her.
"Wooh…it's a jungle in here." And then she laughed. Laughed with the most amusement that she had ever felt in a situation, laughed at the idea of what she had just done. She placed her shaking hands together, her eyes closed as if she were praying. But in reality, her heart was far from such good things. Indeed, she was shaking with an inner passion that completely altered all perception. She fell to her knees, crawling over to lay beside Woodrue's corpse. Stroked his beard lovingly. "Jason, where did it go wrong, huh?" She noticed that even in death, his erection was still there. She patted it lightly. No one would see. "Oh, you died a big boy, didn't you? Aw…" Her face darkened. "Well, I'm glad. Jason, I'm truly glad that I killed you." She banged a fist down hard upon his chest. "I'm really glad that you choked on my poison!"
She banged a fist down again, sinking it into his face. His glass goggles shattered with the force that she brought down upon them and the thin metal frames bended. She crawled on top of him, a cowboy of a position that would have meant well for living passion, but only one of them was alive. "I'm so…" He placed her hands around the dead man's throat. "…focking…" She had strangling a dead body, but the care was little to none. She pressed her fingers hard into his Adam's apple and focused all of her energy into cracking something. Anything. "glad that I killed you!" She picked his head up and banged against the floor, did this several times. Her hair flew around her face wildly as she defiled his body, but she loved the very idea of it. This was appropriate passion, her newly defined sexual desire. Because Woodrue was only going to be the first. She had to kill again. And she had to do it soon!
"Just what until they see what I have in store, Jason?" she whispered to him, kissing him one last time on the lips as she stood up. She placed a foot upon his stomach, her conquered enemy. The veins around his face were swollen, and seemed to be filled with some thick, light green substance. And it was pleasure to the sight. She needed a drink. Something to calm herself down. There was still so much to do. Jason Woodrue was dead but her work here was not done. She would have to leave, and soon. There were supplies she would need to take with her. But where was she going to go? "Mother Nature has to spread… and I'm going to bring Hell to any who oppose her." She cast one last look down at Woodrue. "Isn't that right, Jason? You rejected any care for nature with your experiments, corrupting my work… and I wasn't good with rejection, either. I'm afraid you had to die."