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A Fate Worse Than LV-426	By : JayDee Category: 1 through F > Alien (All Movies) > Alien (All Movies) Views: 13353 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Alien movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Fate Worse Than LV-426
- 1
A Fate Worse Than LV-426
By JD joandoe@gmail.com
Description: Pvt Vasquez missed shipping out on the Sulaco, and was assigned to prisoner transport duty instead. She soon found a strong body was no defence against a strong mind.
Content Codes: M/F, MM/F, rape, NC, MC, interracial, violence, snuff, necro, scat, OC
Disclaimer:
EXTREME GORE / SNUFF / RAPE / CONTENT.
DO NOT, REPEAT, DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THESE THEMES.
I'M FUCKING SERIOUS.
This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don’t own any of James Cameron/Fox’s characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content.
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Weyland-Yutani’s Bio-Weapons Division had numerous sites operating semi-independently. One such site was at Hafnarfjordur, Iceland, although the town that once stood in the area had been destroyed a century or so before in the Great Fish War. Less devastating climate change had seen Iceland warm, but it remained a landscape of mostly barren, crumbling deserts. The permanent population was down to 15000 or so, many of them "company" employees.
Dr Olivia Parker administered the Hafnarfjordur lab. She was a cold-mannered scientist who spoke with a Black-British accent. It seemed she spent more time shuffling paper and reporting back to the company on staff misdemeanours than any research of her own. While many of the research staff disliked her manner or position, Dr Ethan Vitale hated having to report to her, the only other English woman at the lab, when he felt sure the job should have been his. He’d arranged two accidents for her, only for both to befall research assistants.
Driven to distraction by the lack of respect for his more extreme research, when extreme ideas were the norm in Weyland-Yutani’s Bio-Weapons Division, Ethan contacted one of Weyland-Yutani’s competitors and offered to leave and bring his research and prototypes with him. After setting terms, he reached an agreement that they would send transport to Hafnarfjordur, and take him off world along with a considerable quantity of stolen research on high capacity memory sticks. Though he could get away without anyone even realising, Dr Vitale decided he didn’t want to leave anybody living behind him at the Hafnarfjordur lab.
The transport was to arrive on the afternoon of the lab’s weekly mandatory attendance lunch meeting. It was a simple matter to add a fast acting and mostly painless toxin of his design to the communal food store. As it took effect, cries of fear and panic began in the canteen. Dr Vitale closed his eyes and listened to hacking coughs through suddenly liquid lungs. Perhaps it was more painful than he had realised. It was a perfect field test for the toxin. He heard the frantically scrabbling hands against hard metal surfaces before they fell silent. Dr Vitale hoped for an airborne version within two more months of design. Around him the lab’s maintenance staff, security, Research colleagues and assistances, all haemorrhaged together. Death took less than a minute.
"These employees represented a significant investment value for Weyland-Yutani. Their deaths have been recorded and added to the charges against you, Dr Vitale."
Ethan’s eyes snapped open. Dr Parker stood before him with a 9mm Automatic Pistol pointed between his eyes. There were food crumbs about her lips, and yet she showed no signs of ill effects. Dr Vitale shot up from his chair, and pressed his back against the wall. It had been some time since anything had surprised him, but even under stress he deduced the most likely logical reason for Dr Parker’s survival.
"You’re a bloody android!"
"You are correct in your estimation, Dr Vitale. We have been aware of your overtures to the Cohaagen Corporation from the start. The transport arriving shortly will take you to a holding facility where you will be debriefed. If you are considered to retain value as a company asset you will be re-assigned to work in penal conditions. If not, you will be executed under company justice statutes."
"Bloody Hell! There’s no way any of you inferior minded fools could have… Wait! Cohaagen Corporation must be a division of Weyland-Yutani set up to avoid the ECA’s Monopolies regulations. That’s it isn’t it? It would explain that colony issue they covered up six months ago. I must have been blind to miss it with my intellect!"
Dr Parker did not comment on the connection, which was fundamentally correct. The dark-skinned android simply maintained her aim between Dr Vitale’s eyes. Neither she, nor her superiors, had calculated the possibility of Dr Vitale murdering his colleagues. His staff file clearly marked the sociopathic tendencies that so aided his work in designing unpleasant yet effective ways to kill. However, he had not shown any signs of homicidal behaviour outside his research. Meanwhile, Ethan was speculating aloud,
"If I’m to be debriefed, they must want me alive. As an android you would likely be strictly prohibited from countermanding company orders. Don’t want you rogue, do they? Are you under orders not to kill me or otherwise risk my life, Dr Parker?"
Dr Vitale started to walk around the table. When Dr Parker did not immediately shoot him, he walked with more confidence. He snatched the weapon from the android’s hand, and threw it aside to perhaps reclaim later.
"I bet it wasn’t even loaded, you fucking bitch!"
Dr Vitale brought his knee up into Dr Parker’s crotch. While she did not technically feel pain, as a unit designed to fully appear human unless actually damaged, automated responses caused her to scream and double over. Dr Vitale took advantage of it to bring his knee up hard into her face. The android’s nose crunched against his leg with a spray of white fluid that passed for android blood. Dr Parker’s orders had been too strictly worded. She wasn’t allowed to hurt Dr Vitale at all. He shoved her forwards into the canteen’s waste grinder/compacter. The huge unit served to break up waste for separation and recycling.
Olivia’s hands and forearms disappeared into the grinding gears with a spray of white fluid and strips of dark skin, as she tugged backwards ineffectually. Dr Vitale picked up one of the folding metal chairs and brought it down hard across the back of the android woman’s neck and skull. Her face smashed forward into the gears. They flayed the black skin away along with the delicate facial muscles and the remains of her nose. Dr Parker’s internal damage reports shot up, just as safety overrides deactivated the unit.
With most of her face gone, Dr Parker could not get full visual confirmation of her status, however it appeared she was securely lodged from the elbows down into the unit. Internal valves shut off the draining flow of the Android’s vital fluids and registered damage levels at 30% with essential system damage at only 12%. If she had been human, she would have been screaming with agony or entering shock, however the automated response systems had de-activated as soon as Olivia’s internal fluid was spilled.
"You cannot achieve anything by destroying me. You will only serve to increase your debts owed to Weyland-Yutani."
Ethan dropped the chair and admired the damage he had wrought on his former boss’s body. Android or not, there were some spectacular curves underneath her modest clothing. He felt a great sense of power in the android female’s helplessness, and groped at her breasts through her top, before answering her.
"Good! Damn, you have the most realistic fake udders I’ve ever felt. The whores serving the New York office don’t have fakes as good as these!"
Dr Vitale stepped over to the control panel of the grinder. He had decided to utterly destroy his former boss, to reduce her literally to the garbage he saw her as.
"Just a minute, I’m overriding the controls that make the compactor shut down when anything too big is pushed through. Then I’m going to fuck your black arse until it’s all that’s left, Olivia, you frigid bitch."
"You will not succeed in escaping."
The same emotionless voice in reply. The android was not afraid of destruction, although she felt something analogous to regret at being earlier unable to countermand her orders and shoot Ethan. Her internal sensors detected him moving away from the waste disposal controls as the machine hummed with power again. He quickly tugged down her loose pants, and she felt his hands slap her artificial black buttocks.
Dr Vitale lent over the helpless android Olivia’s body and scooped some of the white fluid that had previously escaped from her damaged head. A highly oily substance, it smeared easily into her unprotected anus. Normally, he would have considered himself above fucking a machine – even one as aesthetically pleasing as Dr Olivia Parker – but this was a machine he truly hated, and wanted to destroy.
Dr Parker’s sensors identified the noise of Ethan pulling out his hard reproductive organ. Olfactory sensors in her skin analysed a strong mixture of sweat, sour urine and spunk. Dr Vitale tugged his foreskin back and the smell grew noticeably stronger. An automated internal system made a note to discuss personal hygiene with the subordinate as he shoved forward with his pale white cock. Ethan speared into the android’s asshole with ease. The penetration shoved Olivia’s face and arms forward into the grinder again.
Dr Parker’s last words were lost in the grinding of the unit. Her body shuddered violently as Ethan humped her tight ass with furious strokes. He groaned as the grinder’s vibrations worked his prick through Olivia’s body. Her rssential systems began to be lost as back ups throughout her body generated increasingly bleak damage reports. Dr Vitale’s own upper body was sprayed with the android’s internal fluid and scraps of clothing. A particularly heavy blast was drained away from him, as Olivia’s soft breasts were ground to a pulp under merciless metal teeth.
"Die on my shaft you fucking black ‘droid bitch!"
Ethan had Olivia’s lower body right up against the grinder by then. Her formerly visible skin was entirely drenched and hidden from view, and he almost lost his grip on her hips due to the slippery android fluid. She was still tight inside, constricting his cock almost painfully. The pleasure was beyond what he’d expected. Ethan’s aching balls constricted tightly under his shaft as he came. He fired hot semen into fast cooling artificial flesh. Dr Parker was completely destroyed from just below the navel up, her beautifully designed body minced and compacted to easily disposable cubes.
By the time he pulled out, Dr Vitale was panting heavily. His semen leaked from Dr Parker’s asshole as he lifted her lower body up, and tipped it into the grinder. His softening cock twitched freshly as Olivia’s cunt was ground to a pulp before his eyes, followed by her athletic legs and finally her still shoe-encased feet. There was something to be said for artificial persons as fuckmeat; truly disposable relationships.
Ethan looked around at the motionless bodies of the dead. Amongst his many prototype stage experiments, Dr Vitale had a "zombie" re-animation system he was aching to try out, but there really wasn’t the time. He needed to clean himself and change clothing; otherwise he wouldn’t get far without being picked up by company security. He stripped right there in the mess of the canteen, taking with him only compact prototypes and research memory sticks, jewellery, and Dr Parker’s pistol. He headed for the nearest shower, a decontamination unit. He scrubbed himself clean until his pale skin was bracingly red in places, and stepped from the shower.
A supplies cupboard nearby provided an entire set of new clothes. Used by the research assistants, they were generic enough to pass un-noticed as he sought transport out of Iceland. Dr Vitale had high hopes that his skills would be of use to another firm, and that he could locate a company that wasn’t a subsidiary of Weyland-Yutani. Dr Olivia Parker might only have been an android, but it had felt damn good to unleash his vengeance upon her. He would take a similar course of action much sooner in future, he decided. He was in high spirits as he headed for the lab’s small garage, only for them to be dashed as he he turned the corner and looked down the barrel of a Pulse Rifle and into the face of a petite but very tough looking Latina.
They were early! Damn them!
"I… you have orders not to harm me from the company!" he cried, remembering how he overpowered Olivia.
Dr Vitale realised she didn’t care, and that she had seen the bodies in the canteen. He was too shocked to pull the pistol as the Latina stepped forward and swung the gun around. The butt collided sickeningly with Dr Vitale’s head, and he dropped like a stone to the cold, hard corridor floor. She almost followed up with a kick to the ribs, before another guard arrived in the corridor,
"Wait, Vasquez! Remember our orders!"
"Fuck, Johnson. You’re such a pussy."
Vasquez slung the rifle back onto her back and spat into Ethan’s face.
"I’m only on secondment you piece of shit animal."
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The key, Dr Ethan Vitale thought, half an hour later, was patience. No sense busting out immediately only to be recaptured by the bloody guards soon to be crawling all over Weyland-Yutani’s Hafnarfjordur Bio-Weapons lab. He was only cuffed, after all, and it was a small matter to dislocate his thumbs and pull his hands free. They really should have done more to restrain such an intelligent yet sociopathic man.
The guards had also foolishly left him with one of his dual function prototypes. It was a transmitting device designed to appear like a solid black gem on a gold chain. The guards had clearly mistaken it for the jewellery it imitated. The prototype represented some of his finest, most inhumane work in brain wave and grey matter manipulation; it was an ultra-compact tool designed to respond to simple finger pressures on the surface – identifying intent from scanned electrical signals in the brain and body in the manner of an advanced artificial limb - and could also responded to a few spoken commands.
He sat in the back of the Armoured Prisoner Transport with two guards, while one drove the vehicle. They said nothing to him, and the Latina hit him every time he spoke, so the journey was quiet for long minutes. While two of the guards wore standard issue Colonial Prisoner Transport uniforms, the third wore Colonial Marine kit - loose green top and pants, dog tags, and a personal red bandanna tied around her head They all carried similar weapons – Pulse Rifle, side arm, grenades and knives.
Colonial Prisoner Transport duty tended to fall to troops were who weren’t quite fast or strong or smart enough to make it as Colonial Marines. The driver was a good example; a Kenyan called John Grimes, who had waited outside for Ethan to be dragged to the Transport. He seemed far too skinny, and Ethan thought he detected the signs of drug addiction in his bearing and skin tones. Vitale wondered how it passed the notice of his superiors, unless they were as apathetic and useless as so many inferior intellects he encountered.
Of the other two guards, one was male; his badge identified him as Michael Johnson. His pasty skin, permanent expression of boredom and heavy-set figure gave him a bovine appearance. The other guard was female, a butch Latina. She seemed very different to the other two, not least because where they held a non-military rank of ‘guard’ she was clearly a Colonial Marine Private. Pvt. Vasquez had very short hair under her bandana and breasts that were probably small only due to her overly athletic build. Of the three, she was the only one Dr Vitale thought of as remotely dangerous to him – and not just because of the throbbing gash Vasquez had given him on his temple.
Vasquez was bored out of her mind with chicken shit prisoner transfer duties. It felt like a punishment detail, even though it hadn’t been her fault she hadn’t got back to the Sulaco for the last assignment to ship out. There had been a riot of religious crazies, and she’d had to knock down a man who kept insisting she was Jewish for reasons that escaped her. The worst part of it was that her personal Smart Gun had been left behind in the Sulaco’s armory. They would only issue her a Pulse Rifle for transport duties, and that sucked shit. Her Smart Gun was like a limb, an almost integral part of her, and it was on it’s way to some shake and bake colony while she was guarding assholes.
Vitale sat quietly for a while, until he judged enough distance had been put behind them, and that both Johnson and Vasquez weren’t concentrating as well as they could. He grunted as his thumb dislocated, and then whipped his hand around to grip the prototype. It activated immediately as he targeted the Latina. Vasquez thought she reacted first, but found instead she was pressing the barrel of her Pulse Rifle under Johnson’s chin. His dull eyes crossed as he tried to look down at it.
"What are you doing, Vasquez?" M-Move your gun, you crazy-ass Marine!"
"I can’t! I can’t! What the fuck?"
Ethan stroked the prototype’s shiny service as the circuits attuned fully to Vasquez’s brainwaves. He thought hard about what he wanted to see, and the prototype transmitted. Vasquez squeezed the Pulse Rifle’s trigger. Vasquez cried out with wordless surprise as the rounds destroyed Johnson’s face in a short controlled burst. Blood splashed hotly across the Colonial Marine’s olive skinned face. Her eyes widened at the horror of murdering her comrade in cold blood. Somehow the scientist bastard was controlling her body! Johnson slumped forward from the seat, not yet dead but losing blood so fast it was only a matter of time.
"Oh No," laughed Dr Vitale with mock surprise, "You murdered the world’s only half-man/half-cattle hybrid!"
The transport screeched to a halt as the driver reacted to the gunfire from the back. The windowless rear was completely sealed off from the driver’s cab, so Vasquez and Vitale listed as the door slammed and the driver cautiously approached the back of the vehicle.
"What are you doing to me, you son of a bitch?" Vasquez demanded of Ethan.
"Lovely device this. Designed it myself. It puts my mind in control of your mind – and that’s just the start. Just think of the practical applications! Only downside is that there’s a little feedback I wasn’t able to iron out for the prototype, which is probably why I feel a little angrier than I normally do. I presume they don’t hire nice Colonial Marines?"
The left of the two rear doors was pulled open. Almost night, the late evening light flooded in from across the barren Icelandic landscape. Grimes darted into view, only to be met with another hail of fire from Vasquez’s Pulse Rifle. He collapsed without firing a shot; a Pulse Rifle round through the brain ensured his suffering was short. Ethan stood from his seat and held his non-Prototype gripping hand towards Vasquez. The handcuffs hung from one wrist – he was quite grateful they hadn’t used plastic strip restraints.
"You made me kill them. They might have been dumb shits, but they didn’t deserve that. You fucking bastard! Your mother is a whore! I’ll kill you for fucking with me."
Ethan chuckled, as Vasquez spat hate at him.
"Unlock the cuffs. I won’t need them now. Come on, haven’t got all night!"
Vasquez found herself unable to resist the command, nor as Ethan led her from the back of the transport to have a look around. There was little to see across the flat desert plain, so Dr Vitale turned his attention back to the Latina. To start with, Ethan had just wanted to have Vasquez kill herself, so he could make good his escape in the transport. However, following the painful blows the bitch had struck him and with the mind-control prototype feeding Vasquez’s rage back into his mind he decided to go further and nastier than a simple bullet in the head. Raping the Parker android as he destroyed it had been extremely gratifying, after all, and the pleasure was fresh in his memory.
"Drop the gun and get on your knees whore, but spread ‘em."
Vasquez felt her legs buckle beneath her as she followed the ‘prisoner’s’ command against her will. Normally nobody, but nobody, would ever dare call her a whore. Anybody foolish enough to do so would have counted broken bones amongst the least of their agonising worries. That this pencil-necked fuck could insult her as he wished had Vasquez beside herself with rage. She was momentarily lost for words as her knees touched the road.
Dr Vitale stepped forward and then drew back his leg. The Colonial Marine saw what was coming immediately, and yet her arms would not respond as she tried to block the blow. To Vasquez’s eyes, it seemed to come almost in slow motion. Ethan kicked her cunt with all the force of a cup-winning goal. It was even worse than she anticipated, but out of pride Vasquez managed to avoid screaming out at the brutal bruising impact. He pants provided no protection from Ethan’s assault.
"Shit! Even the ‘droid screamed when I gave her one there. I bet you think you’re really hardcore don’t you?"
Ethan unbuttoned his pants one-handed – or more correctly, for an Englishman, his trousers. Following his heavy shower, Vasquez at least wasn’t subjected to the odours that had assailed Dr Parker’s sensors. After kicking Vasquez’s cunt, his cock was hard as a rock and ready to go. He reached down to cop a feel of a small breast, noting how much firmer it was than Parker’s had been.
"This is a lesson, darlin’ for Weyland-Yutani and for you Colonial Marine types. The lesson is you do not mess with Dr Ethan Vitale. Even Death won’t end the lesson! See, my device here has a second use beyond controlling your tiny little mind. It can also turn corpses into zombie troops."
Dr Vitale laughed again at his own brilliance.
"The military applications on a major scale are unbelievable! Can you believe that bitch Parker wouldn’t give me resources for a large field test? There could have been entire regiments of re-animated troops if she hadn’t shut down my research. So, instead of sending you against an enemy position to soak up ammo, I’ll just have the three of you be zombie fuck puppets!"
"You bastard son of a whore! I am going to fucking gut you! I’ll hang your corpse from Sulaco’s nose and use your skull as a latrine!"
"No more words, I think. Grit your teeth, right? You aren’t smart enough to talk to me, you stupid slut."
Ethan twisted the transmitter between his fingers, and Vasquez’s jaws slammed together. The very tip of her tongue was caught between her teeth, shaving a tiny piece of skin and muscle tissue from it. Ethan chuckled at that too, while Vasquez continued to curse him through her teeth. He tired of groping her cleavage and moved his hands to her dog tags. He lifted them from her neck over her head as a souvenir.
Vasquez wanted badly to draw her knife, and shove it up into the gloating scientist’s crotch. The horror of her physical helplessness left her blood cold, but through the pain anger burned brightly. To the butch Latina’s delight and relief, she found herself able to reach down and draw the blade from its sheath. Instead of stabbing it upwards though, she could only watched as her hands turned it around to the thin green fabric of her top. Vasquez realised she was about to press the sharp point into her own six pack
The tough Colonial Marine fought her own arms all the way as she sank her knife through the clothing and into her hard muscled stomach. Her muscles seemed almost ready to snap from the bone, but the power of Vitale’s prototype over her brain was too great. Vasquez felt the prick against her skin, and then an insistent strong pain. Blood trickled down to the waist of her uniform pants. Vasquez swore in Spanish through her gritted teeth, spittle marking her lips. The Colonial Marine was so angry with herself; Ethan could read the rage and humiliation in her eyes and even feel a small part of it feeding back into his own mind.
Ethan stroked his cock as Vasquez groaned at the pain. As the blade disappeared inside Vasquez’s shaking belly Dr Vitale rubbed his crown across her bloodstained lips. She tried to force them open, to bite, but his control over her prevented her from doing so. He gripped the prototype transmitter tightly in his free hand, and the Colonial Marine started to twist her knife inside her stomach. Vasquez’s groans turned to muffled screams as Ethan slid his cock up the flushed olive skin of her cheek to her eye. He could exert just enough control to prevent her shutting it as he pressed his cock against the pained orb. It seemed both firmer and warmer than he expected against his leaking crown.
By that stage, Vasquez could feel blood pouring freely down her stomach. The agony she suffered increased constantly, as Vitale forced her to shred her innards. The Latina felt the warmth start at her crotch and knew she’d pissed herself. She wanted to blame it on the transmitter, to avoid the humiliation, but with her unblocked eye she saw Ethan’s smile and knew it was her own shame. Vasquez tried one last time to move her head, hoping desperately to break Vitale’s control.
She was fully aware, but it was like fighting the strongest of physical restraints against the power of the bastard’s device. Crushing pain started in Vasquez’s eye and she saw flashing lights in the darkness. Ethan wasn’t pushing forward, he simply held his cock steady. Vasquez realised with mounting horror that the sick fuck was forcing her to impale her own eye on his shaft.
"Come on, Marine bitch. I’m going to show you the only thing your brain is good for!"
"No!"
The muffled cry of defiance turned to a scream of agony again as Vasquez’s eyeball burst around Ethan’s probing cock, and still she was forced to press her head down. Ethan swished his bloated crown in the socket for a moment, ensuring his cock pressed against of the tender cells and tiny muscles within he could. He stroked the prototype again issuing fresh commands. The Latina paused in her self-impalement.
Vasquez pulled the blade from her belly. The gore-dripping blade slipped form her bloody fingers and clattered to the dusty road. Moments later, she pressed her hands into the freshly opened wound as Ethan willed her to disembowel herself. The strength she had exercised to gain, for the defence of her country and colonies, was turned against her in the last few minutes of her life.
Ethan loved this sense of power, watching the waves of agony break across the Colonial Marine’s face and shining in her remaining eye. He started fucking into her eye socket, only a little way, but lubricated with optical humours. Vitale dropped his gaze to where Vasquez industriously tugged free long intestinal tubes, squashy with half digested food and almost formed shit. Having dissected a few bodies before, he wasn’t surprised to see just how much came out. Brilliantly, the transmitter could also prevent her going into shock. The Colonial Marine’s suffering would not end until death. He had another idea, and worked his fingers on the transmitter to make it happen.
"Tear out your own womb, if you can find it. Rip free your uterus, your ovaries, everything! Show them to me"
Vasquez knew where her reproductive organs were. It was basic training for a Colonial Marine, where simple anatomical knowledge could be the difference between life and death for a comrade, and often just death for an enemy. As Ethan transmitted the sadistic command, her shaking blood drenched hands left off uncoiling intestine. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps between her teeth. Vasquez’s fingers pressed passed sliced up muscles into the now gaping stomach wound. Through the agony she felt a strange tugging within her cunt, which quickly grew to a terrible pull. Vasquez’s arms strained like never before until with a sickening ripping sound she pulled out her womb and held it up. Vasquez’s ovaries flopped on either side of the organ.
"Shit!" Ethan cried, aroused beyond all measure by the forced offering.
He jabbed his cock forward hard. Vitale penetrated Vasquez’s brain with the brutal stroke, sliding in until his red-tinged balls slapped into Vasquez’s olive skinned face. Her remaining eye bulged in it’s socket as tears streamed down her cheek. She was still terribly aware, she could feel the hard shaft inside her skull, but her vision was fading in and out as Dr Vitale withdrew and thrust into the delicious wet warmth.
Ethan released his grip on the transmitter. He knew the Colonial Marine was too far gone for him to need it. Vitale gripped the dying Colonial Marine’s head with both hands. Too weak to resist, she could only scream slack mouthed a final time as the crazed scientist raped her brain into mush. He humped hard and fast, building to a climax in Vasquez’s mind as she finally died. The Latina’s remaining eyelid fluttered as her eye rolled up. Her uterus slipped from her fingers to slap wetly into the blood drenched road dirt as Ethan fired his load until Vasquez’s skull. The powerful blasts emptied wetly into the warm mess. He didn’t pull out until he was almost soft, blood and grey matter dripping from his shaft as he looked for something to wipe it on. Released by Ethan, Vasquez’s corpse fell backwards. Flies were already being drawn to the meat from the bodies of Grimes and Johnson.

Dr Vitale could tell the transmitter was almost burned out. Being only a prototype model, it was pushed almost to it’s limits. Still, it had proven highly effective in a field test and he hoped there was enough power left to use the re-animation element on wide beam. It was entirely possible Vasquez didn’t have enough brain left whole for it to work. Ethan's stomach clenched as he considered his choices, and he was reminded that he hadn't evacuated his bowels in some time. The scientist shuffled to Vasquez's head with his pants about his ankles, and squatted down over her face. Vitale relaxed and felt a solid stool squeeze out into Vasquez's empty socket. He forced the stinking log down into her cock-minced brain to mix with his sperm. Ethan wiped his ass with Vasquez's red rag, before pressing it down into the shit filled socket to ensure his waste stayed inside. Having given up on cleaning his cock off, Ethan slipped it away and tugged his pants back up.
Ethan spoke the command sequence required to use the transmitter to re-animate the dead as zombies, using a sexual subroutine he'd programmed for kicks. Almost immediately, Vasquez’s fingers twitched, and the Colonial Marine jerked into a sitting position. Dr Vitale was very impressed at the ability of his device to reanimate after such devastation was inflicted on a mind. Vasquez's two dead comrades rose from their drying pools of blood and approached her with shambling steps. They tore away Vasquez’s remaining clothing and their own with fumbling fingers before plugging her wet cunt and faeces dripping ass with their cold, stiff cocks. Both the white and black shaft were visible thrusting inside the zombified Latina's gutted belly, since her bowel and uterus had been pulled free. As they were re-animated puppets rather than men fucking for pleasure the lack of friction on their shafts made no difference. Filth smeared semen dribbled down Vasquez's face and groans were forced from her limbs as the zombie sex show continued.
To Ethan's disappointment the transmitter finally died and, receiving no new signals, the dead brains shut down again leaving still corpses collapsed in the dirt. A grisly tableaux for their comrades to discover when they came to see why the guards hadn't made it back with their captive. Dr Ethan Vitale climbed into the Transport's cab and checked the security camera systems. To his delight the vehicles external units had captured and recorded the entirety of Vasquez's defilement. He decided then and there that once he had his new identity set up, including full facial reconstruction, the footage would go out unencrypted on the info-net for all to see. It was also a great scientific record of the prototype‘s success!
A crazed laugh split Ethan’s face as he started the Transport up and tore away towards Reykjavík and a no-doubt bright future.
End
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A Fate Worse Than LV-426