Zena Returns (End)

Zena opened the door and skewed her jaw as she reassessed the scene.

There was mister room 75, the man she had just learned the name of minutes ago, standing naked with a woman at his feet giving her a perplexed look with a dick pressing against her cheek.

Zena’s dread reduced somewhat when she recognized the woman was just his wife, but her anger flaired when she saw that the fucker was using a visor.

“Hey! That is not for you to use!” she shouted, shaking her head and barreling at Richard, careful not to look directly at the screen.

She snatched the visor off of his head and took a step back, hitting the power button on the H-Terminal.

Everything went into slow motion as she stared Richard down for a moment, relieved that his eyes still looked human, although disturbed.

He was scowling back at her, deciding if he should continue skull fucking his wife or get some fucking answers.

Zena slowly reached behind the monitor.

Richard slowly let go of his wife’s head.

Zena slowly removed the usb drive.

Richard slowly pivoted his feet toward her.

They stared at each other.

“Housekeeping!” a maid announced as she stepped into the doorway with fresh sheets.

Zena bolted to the door, knocking the maid off of her balance, then took a hard left down the hall.

“Get back here!” Richard shouted, charging after her. Grabbing a sheet from the maid, holding it over his erection as he followed in her wake.

Zena spun up a stairwell, her shoes squeaking on every metal plate. She pushed a pair of drunk twats out of her way at the top of the stairs and burst into the sunlight above decks.

“Watch it, bitch!” One of them called after her, then laughed in surprise. “Heeeeey—You’re out of uniform, sailor!” teased the other.

Zena hurried toward the stern, aware of the slapping of bare feet in pursuit. Normally she would be quicker, but she was hella sore from what Richard had done to her earlier, and probably would be for days. She kept on running, even as her fresh jumpsuit chafed uncomfortably against her tender lady parts. She skidded for a second as she pulled her arm back, then whipped something toward the ocean.

Richard slowed to watch a small glinting object arc through the air, bounce off the railing, and fall over the edge. He cursed, certain that he had just lost evidence of a lot more than an innocent affair with an amnesiac. “What did you do to me?!”

Zena had juked into a recessed nook, pulled out a swipe card and opened a service door. She nearly closed it behind her, but a hand thrust inside just as she tried to slam it.

“OW! Fuck! Zena... ZENA! we need to TALK.”

“Go enjoy your cruise, Richard!”

When he pushed his way through, tangling the sheet in the door hardware and letting it go, she had already fled down more stairs and shoved her way though a thick set of plush, red doors bordered in black iron banding and rivets. The doors rocked inward, beams of light and thumping music filled the corridor, sharply diminishing as the swinging doors rocked back to center.

What was that smell?

Richard put his palms against the doors and pushed them open, immediately splashing down a ramp. He looked down. Seawater slopped around his ankles. The whole room covered in it. He felt vertigo as what he had thought was the floor tilted a few degrees, opposite to the subtle rocking of the ship, and sloshed against the walls.

It was like no night club he’d ever seen.

Small coral plateaus rose from the water throughout the room, serving as tables for the throng of people standing in the knee-deep brine. A human-like figure from the nearest table regarded him with a flatulent whistle through it’s gills and raised a burbling glass.

Gills. “What the hell?”

In the flashing lights he started to see some figures had razored teeth, some had fish faces, others seemed human but had fins.

They largely ignored him as he trudged forward. He spotted Zena for a moment and continued the pursuit. He had even more questions now.

Hundreds of screens hung from the ceiling on articulated arms, all facing the center of the room like reflectors for a solar concentrator.

He looked up and back to see what was on the them, recognizing the interiors of passenger cabins. Fishy figures watched with curiosity as a human couple fucked on one screen. They gurgled laughs at the blowjob was going down on the screen next to it.

We are the entertainment... for these things?

He turned back and shouted in surprise as a striking woman loomed over him.

“You shouldn’t be here, Richard.”

She was poised, unmistakably born to wealth, clad in red latex styled in a cross between a swimsuit and a corset. Her short dark hair was slicked back. She wore goggles that flickered an awful lot like the visor.

“Report. Zena.”

Zena stepped out from behind her, visor in place and activated. The light show was giving him a headache.

“I destroyed it, madame Maxine, but he followed me.”

“Shame. Well, since he’s here... induct him as usual, then fix your mistake with the usual cover story. Then return for your discipline.”

“Ah... uh... yes, madame,” Zena looked stricken.

Richard jolted as Maxine poked him casually with a hidden electro-prod. Zena grabbed him after he splashed to his knees. She kept his head above the water as she floated him to the center of the room, toward the flashing lights.

Richard moaned, staring at the oily, luminous blob in confusion. It was ovoid and undulating. It’s surface was made of iridescent flickering dots. Their scale was inconstant, throbbing in an grand, exotic dance.

As Richard struggled to his feet with Zena’s help, his pupils narrowing to pinholes as his pounding heart found a matching rhythm in the flashing chromatophores of the slimy tentacle that slowly elongated to his forehead...

A few weeks later, a newly engaged couple entered a cabin to start their cruise on the Orient Eclipse. They were greeted by a manservant who introduced himself as Richard. He was pleasant, but a little too eager to please. Behind his professional courtesy, he seemed terrified that someone... or something was always watching him, and failure would be very, very bad.

Aria took the news of her husband’s overboard accident hard. The cruise line assured her that they were doing everything in their power to find him, but it did little to alleviate her pain.

Two months went by when she got an unexpected visit from familiar looking elderly, retired captain. He handed her an ornately decorated usb stick, saying he had seen it fall into a lifeboat and had retrieved it. He thought it belonged to her for some reason...

The End