Run. Now.

Four pairs of lips peeled back...and there were no white teeth there. Just needle-like fangs, thin and sharp, set into black gums. All four of the naked women sat up at once. They stared at Lois without blinking, and something swam and writhed in their eyeballs, only momentarily blinded by the light of her phone.

For a moment, Lois Lane's feet seemed to be set in concrete. Feelings she had no words for impinged on her consciousness. A sudden, terrible certainty that those four naked women were part of something larger, older, and utterly alien to human existence. Like the groping fingers of a hand or—

A sudden image hit the reporter very strongly, of a four-armed starfish, the tips of which were phallic and oozed a thick, grey seed, a single malevolent eye in its center. Each arm pushed forward and penetrated a woman's vulva. Pumped that foul jizz deep inside of them. The healthy pink flesh darkened and greyed out as the infection spread, the flesh ran like wax...and now there were eight phallic arms that crawled and flopped bonelessly, looking for more cunts to breed.

—and Lois came back to herself as the women opened their mouths inhumanly wide, and grey, phallic appendages pushed past those needle-like teeth in place of their tongues.

Strength flowed into the reporter's legs and she turned and ran down the corridor, droplets of jizz flew from her body as she beat feet...and nearly collapsed as her diaphragm squeezed tight and more cum burst forth from her lips, her lungs still trying to expel what she'd swallowed.