Demon Seeds Ch. 02: Demigod in Repose

Samara jumped in her chair surprised by his unhealthy physical behavior and his loud outburst of laughter. Unsure what to say she just sat with her fingers digging into the arms of her chair trying to ready herself. She didn't really know how to get out of her situation if he decided to attack her but her mind was moving much faster now trying to come up with an escape route.

Fry took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was not getting through to her but he had to keep trying. Slapping his hands down on his knees, Fry looked exhausted and resigned. He shook his head with a depressed look on his face. He spoke quiet and serious, "Look I know this is a lot and you think I'm completely crazy but I was there when you selected this program. I can tell you so much about this life that you think is so real. Things nobody should know. I know you liked this program for its dynamic content. Your memories of the vaginal tumors, the surgery, your nickname 'Sam Frost', the whole thing is bullshit. It was a made up history designed to amplify your life here on earth."

She was stunned. Now she was more afraid than ever. This Fry was not your normal stalker; he was potentially a serial killer that had been following her for a very long time. She wouldn't be surprised if he had a twisted sanctuary with pictures of her painted in flowers and human feces. Whatever the case, she was in real trouble and she was trapped without any way of escaping to the door before he caught her. She could use the master and servant thing to her advantage if he was so sure she was this Hypatia.

Samara pointed to the ground yelling, "I'm your demigod, back on the floor with you! Do as I say whelp!"

Looking tired and frustrated Fry rolled his eyes saying, "Really? ...you honestly thing I don't know the difference between the real Hypatia and the program? Let me guess; you think you're about to die because I'm ape shit crazy...am I right?"

The jig was up. She grabbed the arms of the chair digging in like a cat and jumped, launching herself in a frightened run to the door. Just as soon as she dug in and sprang forward, Fry pulled a 1911 pistol from behind his back and pointed it at her. She froze instantly with her heart in her throat.

"Fry please..."

Motioning with the gun he said, "Sit down Samara. When I'm done talking to you I'll leave. If you run I'll just shoot you and you'll be dead...right? Because you're not a demigod are you? None of what I'm saying is real. This is all Fry crazy speak isn't it."

Samara let her body relax back into the chair, horrified with her heart racing. She sat wide eyed and contemplated existence in what she perceived as her last moments. Nothing was going to dissuade this man from his current course. In his head they had been buddies for a very long time and the night was more than likely going to end with him shooting her then turning the gun on himself...probably sometime after he made a lean-tu out of her bowels and the couch, singing some chilling version of a nursery rhyme to himself.

Fry spoke now that he'd pinned her down to hear him out, "You are an Omega. Your race gets vacation programs installed to forget their miserably long existence and for a few decades you get to be mortal or as close to mortality as one can get. The problem with these damnable programs is once they go active, there is no easy way to get the Omega out but we have found a solution. It's just frustrating and well...here we are."

Desperately trying to get him to see reason, she had to bring up a subject that might completely blow back in her face. Samara spoke softly, "Well Fry hon, if it's so hard to get me out of this program, why not just let it run its course. If Omegas have unending life spans, then why not let the program run a few decades and terminate naturally?"

Fry nodded his head with a hint of a smile on his face, "That is a very good question Samara. Sadly I cannot tell you any of those details. If I let you know what I know, your program could destabilize and damage your mind permanently."

Samara figured she obviously wasn't going to become a lean-tu until this jackass was done monologuing but she would almost rather he shot her than fill her head with so much crap just before her death. She threw him a little sass saying, "Brain damage? I thought I was immortal."

Fry nodded his head amused by her response. He chuckled, "I said you don't age. There's quite a big difference. No I won't say anything that will potentially damage your mind but I can tell you some interesting facts."

He set the gun down on the arm of the couch and began speaking with his hands, "We gave Seedco a very rare seed that was unlike any of the others. Actually it was the only one like it on the planet. I gave it to June Bloodwine at the head of Seedco Corporation and she sent out her top operative, Claire Fitzburg, to bring you this rare seed. You should really take a moment and Google what these seeds look like. They're more like a small fennel seed. The seed we gave you was not a plant augment at all; it was a patch for your vacation program."

Samara did feel a little annoyed by the obvious. Why didn't she look up what these seeds actually look like? She shrugged off the idea because if she inquired about the seed on a search engine and it was like the one she ate, it would only fortify the idea that he was delusional and cause her to panic even more. She had to keep her wits and she had to keep him talking. She was genuinely a little sad at the idea that she was not getting a plant.

Shaking her head she used this emotion, "So I paid one hundred...THOUSAND dollars...for a patch? I'm not going to get a plant?"

"You already have one Samara."

"I...I'm sorry, What?"

"You already have one. Shortly after you were created to subdue intergalactic conflicts, you took your first vacation as a Korinthian female and you bonded to a plant just like the ones these earthlings are eating. Nobody could have foreseen that the plant would bond to more than your humanoid form. The Four Councils of the Ancients expected that the plant would dissipate with the Korinthian body when you changed back into your photonic form but what happened was marvelous and the most beautiful and unexpected phenomenon. It stunned everyone! These plants bond to the DNA of their hosts but nobody could have guessed a plant augment could bond to your photonic core!"

He paused for a second realizing he was getting a little too excited and his captive audience was looking more and more terrified with each passing minute. He cleared his throat again while rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

Looking back up at her a little more focused he continued, "You see when you take a humanoid carbon based form, your cells emit a very faint amount of light. As you wake from your program, your body glows brighter and you defy gravity. Even your hair is alive. It actually moves like you are under water once you wake up." Fry was sure he should have left that bit out. He took another second massaging his temples thinking, "Good job, and way to gain her confidence! You might as well have told her that she was Rapunzel."

Samara wanted to keep him talking. If she could convince him that she believed his story, she may yet walk out of here alive. She chimed in during his pause, "Earlier Fry, when I was angry with you...knowing about my cancer surgery, why were you afraid I was going to kill you? If I'm your demigod master, am I so ruthless?"

Fry was glad she asked. His line of conversation was going nowhere.

"Actually you are quite benevolent in your true form. The best way I can describe the problem is to compare you to a sleeping person. You're subconscious mind is awake and even though you're running this program it is always awake and ready to act. If you perceive anyone or anything to be a threat to your existence...you can potentially eliminate the problem without waking up. So I must be careful not to say or do anything that will set off this subconscious safeguard. The trick is to show you that you are what I say you are...and not get killed by one of your knee jerk reactions."

Samara played along, "How do you intend to do that exactly?"

"I have no idea but after today at the bakery, I knew we had to talk before they find you. We can't have you bumbling around accidentally doing supernatural things in front of the humans. It doesn't take them long. Once the humans know about you, alarms go off and..."

Fry's expression changed to sad and he slumped into the couch mumbling, "And they will kill you."

"Um...who are 'They'? If you mean the religious fanatics..."

"No! I do not mean the religious fanatics. I can't say who they are. Just uttering the name of that race could get me killed...by you! More importantly, jarring you out of your program could potentially damage your mind and you're far more valuable than I am. "

She had to give him credit. For a lunatic, he'd worked out all the angles. She threw the next logical question out, "Suppose I believe you. SUPPOSE...I believe you, what then? What do you want me to do?"

"You? I don't want you to do anything. I need to speak to Hypatia not her program. There isn't shit you can do."

Samara actually felt slighted. She knew that these adventures were only taking place inside his head but his answer meant he didn't want to share. She was sure he hadn't worked the details in that part of his story. This was his mind protecting itself.

"If I could just think of a way to wake you up temporarily to give you some information! I..."

Fry stopped talking as though he'd had a revelation. Murdering to himself he said, "That's it. I think I might just have a way to do this...I'll fire my gun at you."

Samara felt a shock inside her. All of her problems were about to end. She knew she'd never make it to the door. She had to talk him down so she spoke up in a panicked voice, "Fry! There has to be another way. I'm ready to do whatever you want. Just say it and I'll help you work through this!"

Fry looked at her with a blank expression on his face. Then he responded, "Yes. We will talk about this and I'm so glad you're ready to work with me."

She relaxed exhaling a huge breath of air she'd been holding in. "Oh thank god."

"Right after I shoot you in the face."

Samara watched him raise his 1911 pistol and level it off to where she could see down the barrel. Her words caught in her throat as she was certain these were her last moments. She couldn't think of anything that would detour him. Finally in a reflex action she yelled, "Fry please don't...!"

Her voice cut off as she watched him pull the trigger and the explosion in the chamber. The round left the barrel flying toward her face. As the bullet tumbled through the air she could make out FMJ on the side. The gun had a maximum pressure rating of 21,000 psi and she estimated the round was traveling at 832 feet per second as it flew spinning directly at her left eye.

Her body began to glow as she bent time moving her head out of the way. The lead slug tumbling though the air was now heading for her antique reading chair. Samara furiously snatched the bullet out of the air and flew across the room knocking the gun out of Fry's hand. She lifted him into the air by his neck yelling, "Frymon! That is a 1921 English Georgian Wing Back Chair with Original Damask Fabric! Do not shoot holes in my antiques!"

Fry's wind was mostly cut off by her grip but he was able to squeak out a barely audible phrase, "I'm sorry master...good to see you again."

Samara dropped him back onto the couch hovering in mid air. Her hair moved like ribbons of pure light flowing under water. Looking at her hands she could see the glow that filled the room was emanating from her. She hovered staring at her hands and she muttered, "I'm a..."

"Demigod...Yes master. You are and I live to serve you."

She drifted back down to the ground and her light faded. Her hair fell back onto her shoulders like black silk and she felt the weight of her body return.

Watching her closely Fry's face was one of confusion, "Eh...master?"

"Jesus Fry I'm not your master. I keep telling you this damn it."

Fry sat on the couch with his fingers on his chin. He muttered to himself, "Hmmm the patch may take longer than I thought." Looking up at Samara standing beside him he inquired, "Tell me what do you remember from what just happened?"

Samara reflected back and said, "You shot a bullet at my face, I would have just moved out of the way but I had to catch it. You have no appreciation for the finer things in life. That chair is irreplaceable...Frymon..." Her brow furrowed and her expression was one of a panicked confusion. "Oh god, what am I?"

"You are what I have been telling you that you are. I was hoping this would jog your higher brain so I could speak to you fully awake but...here you are. You are now the Samara program with Hypatia's ability. This is fascinating."

"Fry! This is not fascinating it's horrifying! I need to process this and...and...you need to get out so I can have my bath."

This seemed to jog his memory. Fry threw a finger up saying, "Oh about your bath! I brought you help. Well they are here to help with for a lot more than your bath but it is time for introductions. Loren! Stephanie! Come on in and introduce yourselves.

Loren walked into the living room in long deliberate strides as she looked over her shoulder at Samara like a circling predator. She walked barefoot and made absolutely no sound. Her eyes had a slight yellow glow but it was the cool and unflappable hunger behind them that sent a chill down Samara's spine. This woman's body was lean and athletic, still managing to have a smooth hourglass figure. Her skin was deep bronze glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. She wore a tight fitting summer dress with spaghetti straps that fell just low enough to be considered a dress. It was a cream colored fabric, cut straight across the top of her breast line and straight across her thighs. She had medium sized breasts that had a natural teardrop shape curving upward at the nipples. Loren stood about five feet six inches but you'd swear she was taller due to her regal and dignified presence.

As with Claire, once again Samara had that feeling that she knew this woman. She was beautiful with straight black hair that hung just above her shoulders. Her bangs were cut straight across and the rest of her hair was woven in thin braids with a tiny bead of solid gold tied into the bottom of each one. She wore thick black eyeliner but not too much in the way of makeup other than that.

Bowing formally Loren's eyes never left Samara's. She introduced herself with a calm and unwavering voice, "Loren Nefertari my lady."

Scurrying meekly behind her was her hand servant Stephanie. She was slightly shorter and less muscular. The girl was in her early twenties Samara guessed. Her skin was milk white and her burgundy hair was tied in a French braid that fell halfway down her back. The white gown she was wearing dragged the floor and had what looked like a thick shoelace crisscrossing up the front. The dress was of a medieval design and the long sleeves almost completely covered her hands. Samara assumed that this was a cult thing. The dress was obviously not cut for her but probably one of many just like it at some commune.

Samara's penthouse was filling up with unwanted guests. This was not the night she had planned for herself. She was on the verge of snapping when Fry spoke up finally saying, "Well I have a large shipment of flour coming to the bakery and I need to attend to that." He bowed and walked out of the room. She heard him yell on his way out the door, "You've known Lauren for many years Samara! It will come to you, just give it time." The door slammed closed and the room quickly filled with an uncomfortable silence.

Rolling with the punches Samara started the conversation with a bit of attitude, "So Loren...Nefertari, I suppose that's Egyptian." Giving her a quick look up and down she held her hand out saying, "It's not like I'd need to be a scholar to figure THAT one out."

Unmoved by her sarcasm Lauren answered simply, "Nefertari means 'The Most Beautiful' and yes I am Egyptian, my master." Again she bowed. Her face remained calm and without signs of being upset by Samara's rude comment.

Even though she had every right to be rude, Samara felt bad for her comment. She took a deep breath and exhaled saying, "Look I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be rude, I really just want my bath and there just seems to be no end to tonight's drama." She walked back over to her reading chair and sat back down folding her bathrobe neatly over her legs. It was a comfortable place for Samara. Just sitting in it made her feel more at ease.

Loren nodded and said, "Yes I understand but we must pass through the crucible before we can come out on the other side. When we are done here, you have my word that Stephanie will run you a fresh bath if you so desire."

Shaking her head Samara spat out, "No I would very much like for you to just go."

Again Loren seemed emotionally unaffected. "My dear, I have always done Hypatia's bidding and I will continue to do so but the dragon inside you sleeps and I do not take orders from her vacation program."

Stepping forward toward Samara, Loren extended her hand palm up saying, "give it to me."

"Give what to you?"

"The bullet."

"What bullet?"

"In your right hand my dear. Give it to me."

Samara looked down and there it was. She still held the unmarked chunk of lead that she'd snatched from the air. Her fingertips holding it were slightly blackened but undamaged. Not knowing exactly what to do, she simply did what Loren asked and placed the slug into the palm of her hand.

Holding up the lead slug and turning it slowly between her fingers, Loren inspected it carefully. "Hmm...Samara, just a moment ago, there was a man in your living room that shot at you with a large caliber handgun. You not only dodged the bullet but...you caught it. You snatched a bullet out of the air with such grace, the bullet is unmarked. Are you even aware of how precise your calculations have to be to pull this off? After you catch a bullet from the air and hover weightlessly covered in light, you're still worried about your bath. Aren't you the least bit curious about what else you can do?"

Samara thought back. It all seemed so natural at the time but she really had no idea how she'd done it. At the time it was a simple reaction to the situation. She nodded her head saying, "Yes I suppose you have a point. I am very curious."

She took in Loren's tight and muscular body. This woman could have danced ballet with the firm and perfectly shaped legs that she had. Beneath her silk dress, Samara could make out the shape of a half erect plant. The smooth round head pressed firmly against the fabric leaving a very obvious impression. A look must have passed over her face because Loren immediately reacted by walking up to her and she pushed her hips forward. Samara could easily reach over and give it a squeeze. Her fingertips subconsciously started stroking at the patterns in the chair fabric.

Loren put her fingers together and snapped them. Instantly her hand servant untied the lace in the front of her own gown and let it fall to the floor. The young girl had a birdlike small frame and small breasts with just enough meat on her bones to fill her frame out. Her cheeks were well rounded and she had ruby lips that were plump and perfectly shaped. Her large brown eyes were filled with a meek innocence and a look of absolute dedication to her master .The girl was quickly on her knees beside Loren waiting for instructions.