Emerson's not going to take this well.

Eyes wide and panicked, mouth working soundlessly, Emerson could only stare up at the ceiling where low scraping sounds slowly inched away from him and deeper into the precinct's bowels. He had his weapon in hand, but Emerson knew that it was useless to him. Firing blindly at the sounds was a great way to get his partner killed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Cursing, Emerson decided to retreat towards the bull pen - and to the operator radio. "What was that fucking thing?"

Definitely not human. Humanoid, yes, judging from its arms, but it was silent, strong, ruthless. And it was on the hunt, with the cops its prey. All alone, Emerson was no match for the ambush predator, but he was intending to fix this problem - hopefully, it was enough. Heartbeat thundering in his ears, even as he kept them peeled for the telltale squeaking of the thing in the vents, Emerson quickly made for the bull pen, almost breaking into a run when he could see the operator radio, stuffing his gun back into its holster before grabbing the microphone.

"Emerson to all patrols! Emerson to all patrols! Do you copy?" He hadn't even realized how sweaty his palms were, the mic almost slipping from his hands.

"10-4, Emerson. What's going on, man? First DeVeers, now you? Something going on at the precinct?"

"You bet your ass! 10-33 at the precinct, repeat, 10-33 at the precinct!" Almost falling over his words, Emerson strained his ears. Hadn't there been a silent squeak right above him?! "Get your butts back here, stat!"

"What the shit?! Why didn't DeVeers... Car 7 en route, just hold tight. ETA 10 minutes. Over and out."

"Car 9, copy. En route. Fair warning, we're still a ways out, ETA at least half an hour. Over and out."

"As long as you get here! I'll try not to let it get me, over and out!"

It was a damn long 10 minutes for Emerson. Weapon drawn, he hid between the two desks next to the operator radio - which was, thankfully, far away from any vents, but also way too close to the white puddle and O'Malley's empty uniform. Had he been taken too? And to where? And that noise just now - was it that black monster in the vents?! Wiping his hands on his pants, Emerson secured his grip on the gun. He would not be taken without a fight! Flinching at every noise, imagined or real, Emerson cursed the fact he'd ever decided to become a cop.

"Yoo~, Emerson!" Rick Geary called out to the sweating police officer from outside the precinct. "You in there? What the fuck happened to the door?"

"Yeah, over by the radio!" Getting up and hurrying over to Geary and his partner Jerry Travis, Emerson kept an eye on the vents, particularly the one that had been ripped open. His gun stayed into his hand the entire time. "Thank god you're here."

"You called in a 10-33? Looks like it's over, huh?" Travis looked at the bent and broken remains of the door and whistled, impressed by the amount of destruction. "Someone definitely crashed their car in here."

"It's not fucking over! That... that thing is still here, in the walls! It took Harris!"

"Alright, I need you to calm down, Emerson!" Rick Geary, at 46 one of the oldest cops at the precinct, had always been rather level headed, even and especially under pressure. "Give us a bit more to work on, and for god's sake, you best hope this isn't one of Harris' damn pranks, or I'm having the Captain put you two on filing duty for a month!"

"Okay... okay." Taking a few deep breaths, flinching as something deeper in the precinct creaked, Emerson gave the other two cops a rundown of what had happened. Not surprisingly, Geary and Travis were a little sceptical.

"You're pulling our legs, right?" Travis scoffed, looking over to the wall where the grille had been ripped off. "Something's crawling through the vents and **** Harris? What is this, that movie about the guy who doesn't die easily?"

"No! It... it was black, and strong as hell, and..."

"Shut it, Emerson." Geary wasn't believing a word he said, and Emerson could hardly fault him. He wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't lived through it. "Where's Harris hiding? Calling in a 10-33, pulling us from patrol, coming up with this stupid fucking story... I'll get you two shitcanned for this."

"You... you have to believe me! I don't know--"

"Yeah, right. You keep him here, Jerry. I'll go look. Is Harris hiding somewhere, planning to jump out and go 'booga-booga'?" Geary walked deeper into the precinct, leaving the distraught Emerson behind with Travis, who stepped into the other cop's path as he tried to hurry after Geary. Emerson muscled past, of course, trying to catch up with the older cop, but it was too late. "Harris? You better get ou--ooof!"

Geary had barely left the bull pen and entered the hallway running past it when a black, glossy blur tackled him out of sight, rapid scuffling and scraping sounds disappearing down the hall, then a loud bang of metal on concrete. Emerson broke into a run, cursing loudly, as Travis stood behind him and gaped at what had just happened. When he arrived at the doorway, Emerson readied his weapon and threw a glance into the corridor - nothing. No trace of either the Geary or his captor. Only the door leading to the stairs down to the basement and the boiler room, swinging closed slowly.

"Fuuuck..." Letting out a shaky breath, Emerson turned back to Travis who was hurrying over to him, white as a sheet. "Not fucking good."

"What... was that thing?" Travis sounded like he was about to piss his pants, making Emerson curse silently - because he felt about the same. "It... it took Geary..."

"That was the thing that took Harris! You believe me now?!" Emerson spat, throwing another glance down the hallway. Nothing. "Fucking A."

"What are we gonna do? What does it even want with them?!"

"Hell if I know, man!" Heart still hammering, Emerson bit the inside of his cheek. "All I know is that I'm not letting it take me."

"We... we need to get them out."

"Are you insane?! Did you see what it can do? Geary is no lightweight, and it carried him over there in a few seconds! No way I'm stepping up to it with just the two of us!" Ears straining for a sound, any sound, Emerson looked towards the door again. Silence, and no movement. "Let's wait for the others and take it on four on one!"

"And leave them alone with it for twenty minutes minimum? What if it kills them?!"

"Then they're already dead! Or do you think it'll leave them al--" A voice coming from down below interrupted Emerson.

"Mmnooouuh~..." It sounded like Harris. But if the moan was from pain or pleasure, neither of the two cops was able to tell.

"Don't sound dead to me." Swallowing hard, Travis drew his weapon. Even though his hands were shaking, the cop's jaw was set. "I'm going down there. With or without you."

"Fine." Frowning, Emerson checked his own weapon and followed Travis down the hallway to the basement door. "Fucking prick."

The air in the basement was hot and humid,. It always had been since a few of the pipes burst and Detective Colin Jephson had decided to save the precinct a few bucks by doing the repairs himself. Sure, the heating upstairs worked fine, but down here, it worked a little too well now. Within minutes, Emerson and Travis were sweating bullets, their uniforms sticking to their bodies. A much bigger problem was the poor visibility though: pipes and cable trays covered the walls and ceiling, giving the thing that was hunting them plenty of places to hide, particularly with the dirty, orange strip-lights struggling produce anything but gloom. Clenching his jaw, Emerson motioned for Travis to lead the way, following behind and walking backwards. No way he would let that black bastard get the drop on them again.

"Where do you think it took them?" Travis whispered, inching forwards slowly, checking a corridor to the right before continuing straight ahead. "It needs enough room for at least two people, right?"

"No idea. What am I, the janitor? I've never been down here before!" A pipe to the right rumbled and clanged, making Emerson whip his gun over and curse. Nothing was there. Not even enough room for the black thing to hide. "There have to be storage rooms somewhere."

"Y-yeah, that's probably it."

The problem was that there were no markings or signs on the walls that showed them the way. And the basement was big. Slowly making their way through the labyrinthine mess of rooms and pipes, Emerson and Travis tried to listen for any signs for the strange predator or its captives. But with the noises from the pipes, that was easier said than done. In the end, the first sign they found was sticking to the corner of a wall.

"You see that, Emerson?"

"See what?" As Emerson turned around to look at what Travis had found, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, expecting the thing to strike now that his back was unprotected. "The hell?"

There was a shiny spot up on the wall, smoothing the hard angle where it met another wall to a gentle, glossy curve.

"What in all that's holy..." Travis lifted his hand and prodded the strange spot with one finger. It was firm, springy with a little give, almost like... "Rubber?"

"Who would... That black fucker." Of course! Shiny, black, just like the black predator... "We're probably getting closer to its lair. I don't like this, man."

"You think I do? But Geary and Harris need us..." Like on cue, another drawn-out moan echoed through the basement, coming from ahead of them. "C'on, let's go."

They continued as they had before, Travis in front and Emerson walking backwards behind him, scanning the hallway for threats. As they went further along, Emerson saw more small, black spots on the walls, haphazardly strewn about. The heat and humidity grew steadily worse, and Emerson had to wipe the sweat off his brows to keep it from dripping into his eyes. Suddenly, after rounding a corner, Travis stopped abruptly and Emerson bumped into his back.

"What's wrong, Travis?" Wiping his chin, Emerson gripped his gun tighter.

"You gotta see this, Emerson." Something in Travis' voice made Emerson's ears perk up as he turned around. It was hard to place, but it didn't really sound like fear...

It had to be astonishment, with a bit of bewilderment mixed in - because that was what Emerson felt as he saw the storage room before them. It was filled with small heaps of boxes and junk, there was a strange, alien smell in the air, and it was comparatively brightly lit, which made the back right corner practically shine with a black, glossy sheen; it was completely covered by the rubber stuff they had found on the hallways, but that wasn't the worst. On the wall to the left of the corner, the shiny material was ripped apart in a rough cruciform shape, and on the right...

"Geary!" The seemingly **** cop was fixed to the wall, stuck in a mass of rubber that kept him suspended hanging forwards with both arms spread - and completely motionless. Travis barely took the time to check if the room was secure, leaving it to Emerson to cover his ass as he hurried towards his partner. "Damnit, what did that fucker do to you?"

"C'mon, get him out and let's get going!" Keeping his eyes wandering from the opened air vent in the ceiling to the door and back again, Emerson chewed the inside of his cheek nervously. "I don't know how long it'll stay gone."

"I'm trying, this stuff is fucking tough!" Glancing to Travis, Emerson saw him pulling on the rubbery material without much success. "You got a knife or something?"

"Nope, against regulations."

"Oh, now we're respecting regu--"

"T-Travis? That... that you?" Geary's voice shut the other two up, even though it was barely more than a whisper. "Listen, you... gotta get out of here. That thing, it did something... to me, and Harris, he--ugh!"

"What about Harris? Damnit, what happened to him?" Emerson began to walk over to the heavily breathing Geary, rubber creaking with each of his heaving breaths. "Talk to us, for fuck's sake!"

"Nnnuuuooh~..." Geary's drawn-out moan, earily similar to the one they had heard upstairs, sounded obviously, desperately aroused now that they were this close.

"Shit, what--?" Emerson stopped in his tracks even as Travis began to pull at the yielding, yet unbreaking rubber with panicked strength, to no avail.

Danger from strange beasts forgotten, gun hanging at his side, Emerson could only stare as Geary began to arch his back, pressing his chest against the rubber as he writhed on the wall. His fingers flexed under the shiny material that held him, unable to form fists, and Geary began to gasp and moan helplessly, his voice sounding more and more husky with every breath - less like him and increasingly like the sinister chuckle Emerson had heard back upstairs when Harris had been taken.

"Fuck, shit, shit! Hold on, buddy, we're getting you out of here!" Pulling and ripping, slipping of again and again, Travis cursed as he was unable to make any progress in freeing Geary. "Help me, you dumbass!"

Despite not knowing what he could do to help if Travis already wasn't able to do anything, Emerson hurried over, getting the first proper look at Geary as he began to pull at the ring the shiny rubber formed around the officer's neck. Geary's face contorted and shifted in obvious pleasure, and as his chest pressed against the rubber covering it rhythmically, Emerson couldn't help but notice two distinct mounds forming, becoming larger and firmer every time Geary thrust his chest outwards.

"What the fu--?"

"Hhoooh-nnnh~..." Geary's eyes were closed in bliss, head rolling from side to side. Emerson could see his lips grow plump and pillowy as the older cop's stubble disappeared and his jawline softened. "Nnnnyeeees~..."

Aghast at the obvious arousal Geary was feeling, Emerson stopped pulling on the rubbery mass holding him captive for a second, gaping at the other cop and then cursing and jerking his hand away when he felt the warm flesh under his fingers become impossibly smooth, firm... and black, as he could see after stumbling back a step. Getting a better look at Geary from where he was standing, Emerson could see even through the shiny latex covering the older cop that the bulges on Geary's chest - they weren't tits, no way in hell was Geary growing tits - had become almost as large as his head. Travis, still trying to pull away some of the rubber, seemed to barely notice.

Emerson did notice plenty, though: The smooth, shiny blackness was still spreading upwards along Geary's neck, the cop's breathless, undeniably feminine moaning reaching a fever pitch as it began consuming his head. Other signs of Geary's arousal became ever more obvious, as well: Two hard little points poked into the rubber covering his chest, visible even through the firm material - and despite confusion, fear and frustration at his inability to do anything, Emerson found himself growing hard in his pants. Achingly hard.

"Ah-ah-ahnnh~..." Breath hitching in his throat, Geary threw his head back, full, alluring lips, already fully consumed by the shiny black material, pulled into a wide smile of pure lust - and revealing shiny, metallic, yet curiously human teeth inside a mouth that was just as pitch black as Geary's skin was becoming. "Hnnhaaaah~..."

When the blackness reached Geary's nose, though, it began to do more than just change the color of his body. Bulging out, the smooth latex continued upwards, slowly covering the upper half of Geary's face with something like a smooth, featureless mask. But not even this seemed to have any effect on his moaning and panting - at least, not a negative one. If anything, it became even more frenzied, lustful, eager for more.

Emerson's mouth worked, opening and closing wordlessly, mind racing with questions, ideas, worries, fantasies. What would it be like to have these smooth, black, dicksucking lips wrapped around his throbbing cock? How did it feel for Geary to undergo these changes? Was it really as insanely pleasurable as it seemed? As Emerson's member twitched inside the confines of his pants, he could only watch while Travis kept struggling fruitlessly with the rubber still holding Geary in place. And Geary?

The featureless mask on his face had reached the top of his head, now moving backwards, lengthening, elongating, pushing his head downwards again once it began to press against the rubber-covered wall behind Geary. Judging by how the cop twitched and writhed inside his latex prison, pouty lips wide open in an alluring 'o' of pure bliss, his lust - and the transformation, presumably - was about to reach its climax.

But before either could happen, a black shape suddenly dropped from the ceiling, pushing Travis to the floor and knocking him out cold. And as it crawled towards him, Emerson could finally see the thing that had been stalking him this entire time. It was black, smooth, shiny, and so very obviously female. Long legs raised its magnificent ass into the air, a long, glossy tail waving through the air from where it grew between the cheeks. The featureless, elongated black dome of its head, nestled in between two arm-thick shapes leading to four strange pipes on its back, was fixed on Emerson despite the lack of eyes, smooth lips open in excitement as the thing pulled back and got ready to pounce, gargantuan, shiny breasts bulging out from under it.

Emerson's hand whipped up, trying to bring the gun to bear and empty the magazine into this terrible, alluring, sexual monster, but before he could even line up the shot, an immense weight hit Emerson from above, slamming him into the ground. The last thing he heard before everything went dark were the blissful, orgiastic cries of the thing that had been Geary.

Author's comment: Now it gets juicy. To be honest, I wanted to write this or something like this almost since I started writing here - and since I first found the below picture by Kaihlan (https://www.furaffinity.net/view/24010173/). Longtime Giger and Xenomorph fan and not to forget bona fide perv that I am, I just couldn't resist.