I Want To Be Left Alone

There was madness in those pure white eyes. Pain from the fight, and the rough sex, wracked the reporter's body. Her spirit felt tarnished and diminished, as much from giving herself to the horned woman as from the revelations that spilled from her blood-red lips. Lois was utterly convinced, right then and there, that what she had said was true—that the women the reporter had come to find were dead, sacrificed in some terrible ritual just to draw the reporter and her insatiable curiosity here, to this place, for this purpose.

In another time, with all her wits about her, Lois might have tried something clever. Some trap for the monster who had just fucked her, some **** for the women who had died, something...but she was tired, so tired, and all she could think was:

"I want to be left alone."

The horned woman didn't smile. Her talons pressed just a little harder into the flesh beneath the reporter's eyes, to **** Lois to stare into those endless white voids. As the reporter stared, her gaze seemed drawn ever deeper into the whiteness. Until it eclipsed all else of her vision. She could feel her heartbeat slow. Her breath came in long shudders. Pure whiteness everywhere around her.

When Lois Lane finally closed her eyes to sleep, she couldn't feel Blaze's hands on her face anymore, or the intruding prick that had pierced her cunt to the core. Instinctively, she curled up into herself, neither cold nor hot, naked body rested on nothing, pushing against nothing. No air moved, but she had no trouble breathing, and her heart ticked steadily on...and if Lois Lane could have seen herself from afar, she would have found herself in an endless white void, without landmark or feature, the sole inhabitant of an empty limbo.

All alone.

Save for the thing that even now grew inside her womb.