She Tries To

Lois licked her lips, a strange excitement building inside of her. The reporter knew, logically, that she should leave this be—maybe send it off to a lab to sample and analyze—but a sense of immediacy gripped her, and more than that, as she shifted her legs, letting her sore vagina lips rub against one another. She had to know.

Gripping the body of the bottle with one hand, Lois placed her palm on the top, pressed down and twisted...and felt the rasp of the metal cap as it dug into her hand, but refused to twist off. Cursing her upper body strength, the reporter set the bottle down to rummage in a kitchen drawer, returning in a moment with a bottle-opener—the ones she saved for their rare occasions when she wanted a beer and not a glass of wine.

Sliding the metal lever into place, Lois held the bottle firmly and pulled....and pulled...she could feel muscles strain as the bottle remained obstinately closed, felt the veins in her temples throb as she exerted herself. The white liquid sloshed within, gently, but the flimsy metal cap remained tight against the glass, not budging a millimeter...and Lois became aware that she was whispering a steady stream of invective under her breath...

...shitfuckstupidcocksuckingcuntblockingmotherhumpingpieceofshitbottle...

A steady burn built up in Lois' arms, her fingers pressing so hard into the mettle of the bottle opener they were going numb, yet he refused to yield...not to this thing that she had carried inside of her for blocks and blocks...

"Come on, come on," the reporter muttered. "Please..."

The cap flew off, so suddenly that Lois almost spilled the contents of the bottle. Sweating, panting, and a little shaky, she set it back down on the table. A tingle of exhilaration swept through her as she stared at the open bottle. It had been a struggle but now...

Lois paused in her thoughts, attention suddenly riveted at the mouth of the bottle. A wisp, a curl of pale white mist was snaking up from the open mouth....and it was growing, slightly but steadily, until a steady stream of vapor was emerging from the neck of the bottle, dissipating into an almost-transparent haze in the air above the kitchen table...yet one that had, from moment to moment, the suggestion of a definite shape.

Curious, Lois leaned closer...and the strange vapor formed the pale outline of an androgynous face, with whirling clouds for eyes...like staring into the heart of a storm...