Claimed by the Beast(17)

She forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Her wrists were  red and raw, the insides of her forearms scratched up from rubbing up  against the beam. She looked around her, noticing the syringe filled  with the stuff that had knocked her out the last time. She wriggled  around and got herself close enough so that she could pull it toward  herself with her foot. What she was going to do with it she had no idea.  Stab him. But how? She'd have to wait until he unlocked her cuffs for  sure. How would she hide it? She looked down at the deep pockets of the  coat. She would stuff it in there when she heard him again. No sense in  doing it now and taking a chance of stabbing herself accidentally.

Okay, that was one. Things were maybe taking a turn. Not likely but it  was better than having nothing. She wondered how exactly he was going to  take her eggs and how long he was going to keep her. But that thought  was followed by the question of what he would do to her once he was  finished with her. She would be wise to remember most kidnappers don't  drive their victims back home when they're through with them.

She closed her eyes, remembering the bulge in his pants, the comments he  had made, what he had alluded to when he had mentioned being drawn to  her. How long until he lost all control and raped her? He claimed he  wanted her eggs for research to cure his disease and reverse this  terrible side effect, but he was unstable, shifting was out of his  control. She shivered at the memory of the sounds it made, the ferocity  with which it tried to tear down the door. It must have found her by her  scent to begin with. How would she ever hide from him even if she did  manage to escape in the first place?                       
       
           



       



* * *



Lance's memory was sharper this time. He remembered more of what he had  done while he had shifted. Some part of him felt powerful once he  returned to human form. Felt invincible, more than good. But another  part, a part that was becoming less and less recognizable, was  terrified. He was a monster, an out of control monster.

And he had kidnapped a girl, a girl who was now likely beside herself  with fear. What was he doing? He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want  to hurt anyone. He had had no control over his actions where she was  concerned. Or almost no control. He had managed, in the end, to walk  away from her but he had taken some time banging on the door, trying to  break it down to get to her. What if he had gotten through the door?  What if he had gotten into the basement? What would the creature have  done to her, what would he have to witness with his still very human  eyes?

The thought was horrible but he also acknowledged the fact that he  needed the girl. He had no more tissue to test but if he could harvest  an egg, he could create samples and potentially find a way to reverse  this and keep his cure intact. And he had to remember that this was not  only for his own sake. He was doing it for the sake of so many others  who were suffering from this disease. The possibilities were endless  really if he thought about all the diseases he could cure with just a  single egg from this girl. She was a necessary sacrifice.

After dressing, he made a pot of coffee and some food, found her  something of his to wear that was warm and unlocked the basement door.  He could at least make it a little more comfortable for her.

Something inside him relished her fear when he found her crouched behind  the beam he had bound her to. It took all he had to keep the smile from  his face while another part of him, a more human part, wanted to tell  her it was going to be all right, that she was going to be all right.

"It's okay, Rachel. You're safe," he said, approaching. "The episode is over."

She looked around the beam, staring at him, wide-eyed, while he set down  the food and took out the key to uncuff her. He removed the handcuffs  altogether and sat across from her, rubbing her wrists.

"You can't keep me here. It's going to break down that door next time  and if it does, if you do, you're going to hurt me," she said, her voice  betraying her fear.

He released her hands and smiled at her. "I won't hurt you, I am gaining  more and more control over the shifting," he lied. "You are perfectly  safe here, Rachel. In fact, this might be the safest place for you."

She still looked nervous, stuffing her hands in the deep pockets of his lab coat.

"Here, I've brought you some warmer clothes," he said, holding out a sweater.

She glanced at the food. "I'm hungry. Can I eat first?" she asked so  sweetly, he could only smile and nod his head. He turned and picked up  the pot of coffee, just opening his mouth to say something when she  lunged at him, needle in hand. The pot fell, pouring scalding coffee all  over his lap. He screamed in pain even as he grabbed her wrists, just  keeping her from injecting him. She fought him, trying to stab him with  the thing but she wasn't hard to hold off. She was quite small and with  his new strength, absolutely no match.

He rose to his feet and brought her with him, squeezing her wrist hard,  taking the needle from her hand. She tried to kick, realizing her  mistake, knowing the trouble she was in. When he pushed her up against  the wall hard enough to knock the breath from her, he wrapped one hand  around her throat and lifted her off her feet. She fought, gripping his  forearm with both her hands, struggling for breath as her feet kicked in  wild desperation.

His inhale was audible as he watched her face redden. He set her down on  her feet but kept her pinned as he stepped even closer, leaving not an  inch between them. He glared down at her.

"That was a mistake," he hissed.

She still had her hands wrapped around his forearm, still tried to pull  him off. He watched her face contort when he stabbed her hip with the  needle, injecting her with the sedative. Her eyes lost their focus then  closed altogether, and he let her go as she slid to the floor in a heap,  unconscious.

He looked down at her, again struggling with his emotions. One part  angry, the other sympathetic. But he needed to keep his head clear. He  had one goal: fix this serum, stop the shifting, and get the medicine to  Dennison.

First thing he did was strip off the lab coat she had worn. Then he  dragged her back on top of the mattress, turned her onto her back, and  cuffed her. He scanned her body as she lay bound, naked and unconscious.  His cock stirred as he took in her smooth skin, her small, round  breasts stretched as they were with her arms overhead, the nipples dark.  Her belly was flat and a small patch of neatly trimmed dark hair formed  a V at her sex. Her legs were spread just enough that he could glimpse  the pink lips of her pussy. During her examination he had been aroused  even though he had tried to look at her as a specimen. Now, he looked at  her purely as a woman.                       
       
           



       

He touched the hair between her legs and slid a finger just outside the  left lip of her pussy. She was soft, so soft. Unable to resist, he  pushed her legs wider and knelt between them. He spread both lips open  and pressed his thumb inside her. She lay perfectly still, perfectly  unconscious. When he reached for the button of his pants however, he  abruptly stood and turned away. It took all he had to walk away from  her. He wouldn't rape her. He couldn't. He wasn't that sort of monster.

After some moments, once the urge passed, he took down his pants to look  at what the scalding coffee had done to him, afraid for what he might  find. But strangely enough, or perhaps not so, there was no physical  evidence on his skin at all. He should have been burnt, but he neither  felt any pain nor did he have a single scar!

He smiled to an exhale and looked down once more at the girl. One casualty for so much good. It couldn't be helped, really.



* * *



Rachel came to sometime later, her head throbbing with pain. She  remained still however as she took stock of herself, knowing she had  been rebound. She shivered in the cold, not having even the thin fabric  of the lab coat to cover her.

She heard his phone ring and listened, keeping her eyes closed, feigning sleep.

"This is Professor Weston," he said. There was a pause, then "Thank you,  Judy, I'm feeling better but not fully myself yet. I don't want to  infect the rest of you. M-hmm, yes, that's right. Sorry, who called? Dr.  Dennison from Wayne Labs? Three times already? All right. No, that's  fine. I will give him a call now. Thank you. Yes, you did the right  thing, this was urgent. All right, good bye, Judy."

She heard him mutter a curse and knew he had hung up. She opened one eye  slightly to look and see what he was doing. This Dr. Dennison bothered  him.