Epilogue: Blaze's Suicide Squad: Mission X

The cameras didn't even blink as they replayed the same footage, over and over.

The electronic locks were told they were closed, even as they popped open.

The guard was making his rounds somewhere else.

For a moment, all of Arkham Asylum was still.

Criminals, madmen, psychopaths, broken people. More than a few deserved ****. Blaze slipped silently down the corridors towards her target. Past the Joker, past the cells that had once held Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, Killer Croc and King Shark. She felt their absence on this mission.

To the woman's wing. Faces beautiful and haggard slept in their orange jumpsuits. Down at the very end, the cell they reserved for pregnant inmates.

She was on her side in the bunk, one hand on her swollen stomach. The sleeping inmate looked older than her eighteen years. Tattooed portraits of Confederate generals and black slaves being whipped in fields criss-crossed her exposed arms. The door opened to Blaze's touch. One red hand clamped around that pale throat.

There was a tiny **** in the night.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

The auditorium was almost empty. Just Blaze and Amanda Waller...who was now very visibly pregnant, and carrying the weight mostly in the front. There was a definite waddle to her walk to the desk, and a weariness beyond the usual as she began the briefing.

"In 1776, the Founding Fathers performed a mystical ritual to manifest the spirit of the young republic of America. This spirit has taken many forms over the centuries, as the nature of the country, and belief in its principles has changed. During the American Civil War, the entity split into two: Johnny Reb and Billy Yank. It was believed that after the victory of the Union, the two entities recombined into the modern hero known as Uncle Sam...but this is not quite correct."

Click.

A video clip of a naked young woman, her body covered with tattoos. Robert E. Lee looked out from between her breasts, Confederate flags across her neck. Images of black slaves picking cotton on her arm. An inverted cross on her flat belly, along with a collection of pentacles. She laid down in a magic circle drawn in blood, as a man in a Klan hood read from a black book, a Confederate saber in his right hand, dipping down to touch her navel.

Blaze leaned forward as, at the climax of the rite, a tiny black spark leaped from the tip of the sword to the stomach.

"Approximately thirty-eight weeks ago, a Neo-Confederate domestic terrorist organization used an occult ritual to...manifest...the Johnny Reb entity in the womb of Karen Lee White. The organization was later raided by FBI and White was taken into custody. Deemed too mentally unstable and dangerous to stand trial, she was transferred to Arkham, where her pregnancy was discovered. They are currently unaware of the supernatural aspects of the pregnancy."

The demon breathed out. "Are you certain? She could have simply gotten knocked up...perhaps a guard..."

Click.

Fuzzy ultrasound image. The hunched form of a fetus. Blaze frowned. There was something wrong with it...and then she saw the baby turn its head, as if looking straight at the viewer. The eyes seemed to open, spilling out light...

"The lab tech who took this image immediately committed a hate crime against a black nurse, claiming 'The South shall be born again!'" Waller said levelly...but for the first time, Blaze could hear emotion in her voice. "Given the political situation in this country, we cannot afford for this child to be born. Your mission is to **** Karen Lee White and assure the entity inside her womb is terminated."

Waller paused. "I don't know about you...but I don't want my child to grow up in a world filled with that kind of monstrous hate."

Blaze said nothing.

"I want to emphasize, Blaze, that this mission is completely confidential. Even from the other members of Task **** X. You tell no one about this. Not Flagg, not Harley. No one."

The demon met her eyes...and nodded, once.

After

Lois was bent over Blair and Blaine's crib as Blaze slid in. The demon tip-toed up behind her wife, and greeted her with a kiss. They spent a moment together, looking down at the little pink forms. Even asleep, they looked mischievous. The little horns, the pink skin, the pointed ears. Blaze wondered what kind of prejudice they might face, as they got older. Kids could be so cruel against those who were different...

Her wife led the demon away...straight to the bedroom. Blaze raised an eyebrow as the reporter pulled off her shift. Post-pregnancy, Lois was a few pounds heavier than when the demon had first made love to her...faint white stretch marks on the bigger breast and belly. The dickgirl found herself admiring the bigger curves, the fuller breasts. Lois pushed her down onto the bed and worked to free her spouse's cock...and once it popped out, her tongue slathered it.

Blaze was reaching for the condom when Lois crawled up on top of her. There was a look in her eyes that the demon didn't recognize.

"Babe?" she whispered, the first words since she had come in. "I haven't..."

"I was thinking," the reporter said huskily. "That we might try for a girl this time."

The demon ran her hand up her wife's throat...and remembered that same red hand against another pale neck...but then Lois Blaze-Lane's lips slipped over the thumb, sucking it like it was her favorite lolly-pop, and for a little while neither of them thought of anything except the slow grind of hips, the squeeze and caress of exploring hands, and that final, burning urgency as Lois moaned, louder and louder, breasts shaking as she begged her wife for another baby.

After After

In her office, Waller waited for the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yes, Mr. President. We have confirmation. Staff at Arkham found her dead this morning. Cerebral hemorrhage, immediately fatal. She died in her sleep, never felt a thing. The child was non-viable, despite heroic measures. Immediate cremation arranged, there won't be any DNA test. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

She hung up the phone, and leaned back in her chair. In the dark, she ran her hand over her bloated belly. Flagg and Harley wouldn't have taken this mission. Most of the others lacked the subtlety or the fortitude. Blaze had been the perfect choice: she had every reason to want to believe the lie. Far better to think some monstrous creature was in that womb, rather than the illegitimate offspring of a former president who should have known better where to wet his dick than some crazy white supremacist Satanist.

A part of Waller wondered what Blaze was doing right now. Probably receiving a hero's welcome from her devoted wife. Not for the first or the last time, the older woman wondered what it would be like, to ride that crimson cock just once...her hand slipped down to rub her pussy through her panties, and she closed her eyes.

What Blaze didn't know wouldn't hurt her.