FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Next on our list of greatest Country hits—"

Click.

“Next caller coming in is—"

Click.

“You don't have a single leg to stand on. Taxes—"

Click.

“The most popular Pokémon of the year are—"

Click.

A shrill static flooded his ears. “Not sure why I bothered with this," a man said to himself. He let the static simmer. The manual for his new radio was splayed out in front of him. It was a haze of unknown terminology and technical pains in the neck. “Isn't this supposed to be fun?" His eyes struggled to focus on the words before giving up and glazing over. He slowly looked back up at the radio. It was somewhat of an oddity to be faced with a device he didn't know how to use. Confusing frustration was probably the worst sensation. He stretched and yawned. It was getting too late for this.

The jingle of his phone going off ripped him from his gormless staring. “Hello?" It took his mind a moment to realize his stupid mistake. He shook his head and pulled his headphones off, then answered his phone. “Hello?"

“Ivan! How's it going, buddy?" the all too cheery voice asked over the phone.

“It's going fine, Bruce," he lied. Ivan rubbed an eye. “What's up?"

“Just calling in to see how you like the radio." Ivan glanced up at the accursed thing. Its many little blinking lights were almost taunting him. “Find anything cool yet?" Bruce asked.

“Can't say I have. Mostly just local stuff and... static." The discarded headphones continued to hiss. “I can't believe people listen to some of this garbage."

“You went through the manual, right? I added some pointers at the back of it. You try it outside yet?"

“You expect me to lug this thing outside?" Ivan laughed at the thought.

“Yeah, works best out in the wild. Near a good lake." What counted as a good lake? Ivan's eyes narrowed. What the hell did lakes have to do with anything? “You know, because it acts as a grounder?"

“Right, sure, right." Ivan nodded, trying to make his voice seem more sincere.

“You sure you read the manual?" Bruce asked, a drop of doubt in his inflection.

“Alright, maybe I skimmed it." He picked up the manual. It might as well be in Latin. “I'll go over it again." As if, he silently added.

“Good, great! I gotta go feed the kids now, so—"

“The kids?"

“You know, my Manectric and—"

“Oh, right, psh, the Pokémon." Ivan smiled and rolled his eyes. “Alright, have a good one."

“You too! See ya."

The line went dead and Ivan was back in the isolation of his room. He set his phone back down and sighed. There wasn't much else to do at this hour. Well, there wasn't much to do at any hour. He glanced over at his window, staring at the full moon. “Might as well give it another try," he mumbled. The thought of trying to read through the manual again was painful on its own, but he braved its pages once again.

Slowly, Ivan dragged his eyes across every drop of ink. Page after page he read, trying to absorb as much he could. Occasionally his eyes wandered over to his phone, hopelessly waiting for another call to pull him away from the tedium. Though, all things considered, it would be a telemarketer. He put his headphones back on and tried to focus on whatever beamed through the radio. His fingers ran over every dial as he tried to connect them to the text. It wasn't long before he was back to surfing the random radio waves.

Bad music, sports plays, unintelligible languages, more bad music, insufferably happy radio hosts, and the weather forecasts for a few regions over. There was a staggering amount of absolutely nothing on display. “Oh, wait." He flicked a switch to prevent automatic tuning. Immediately he was hit with another burst of static, with faint hints of music. Ivan winced and turned the volume down. Taking a preparatory breath, he continued his fruitless exploration.

Now the repertoire of noises was a mess of fuzzy music and hardly understandable murmuring that was probably speech. Ivan kept tuning and tuning, up until the radio lapsed into silence. It was jarring to hear nothing after the mess that had beamed to his ears. “Now would be a good time to..." He flipped through the manual. “Broadcasting," Ivan read aloud. No microphone was required as it seemed the radio could send off a wave of various toned beeps. Not that Ivan would ever broadcast his voice across the air like that. He swirled his finger about, trying to find the buttons associated with polluting the calm silence. Click. A small beep began ringing in his ear. Instinctively he looked to his phone with elation before grumbling to himself.

As Ivan read, he found more ways to alter the noise. Changing its pitch, wavelength, and amplitude. It was easily more entertaining to warp this small tone than it was to look for random signals. Ivan decided not to linger on how pathetic his amusement was and pushed on with his fiddling with his small show. He had managed to get it into a rolling wave that peaked with a flat tone.

The impromptu musical session continued until something snuffed out the sound. Ivan furrowed his brow and tapped his headphones, then gave the radio a good shake. Nothing. What little cheer he was having was gone just like that. The thing was certainly on, as its interface was still lit up with a deep blue. He propped his head up on his hand and pursed his lips. What could be worse than somehow breaking a gift not a day after you get it, he mused. He gave the machine a few more taps in annoyance.

Suddenly, another set of noises came through, completely alien to his own. Ivan perked up in slight unease. They were organized, playing over and over before pausing and starting again. Did someone catch onto his play and shut him up? Was he broadcasting on a private signal? He quietly flipped through the manual again. Worry continued to press at his mind while he listened to the tones. They slowly increased in intensity, pushing Ivan's nerves further and further. Quickly he shut down the radio and yanked his headphones off. Once he did so, he realized his breathing and heart had sped up. Ivan shook his head and stood up. “This is ridiculous. Calm down," he said to himself.

Ivan took a second to ease himself and turned around to face his room. Everything was as it was before, but an uneasy feeling told him otherwise. “It's fine." He rubbed his neck and plopped down into his bed. Still, the uneasy feeling lingered at the back of his thoughts. Nothing a good blanket can't fix. He pulled the covers up over his head and shut his eyes.

_

“So, go on, tell me. Found anything good?" Bruce asked, handing Ivan a cup of coffee.

“Well“—Ivan took a sip and winced. Too bitter—“nothing too interesting." He kept his lips sealed on the strange beeps, in the off chance he had broken some sacred radio rule.

“Aw, sorry. Maybe next time you'll get something good!" Bruce walked back over to his kitchen and retrieved himself a bottle of water. His bright blue shirt and impeccably brushed hair mixed with his cheery demeanor gave him the air of a children's show host. A little green creature cheerily followed his steps to and fro. An Electrike, was it? Ivan had heard Bruce call it that once. It was cute. Annoyingly cute. Ivan couldn't imagine having one of those little buggers roaming about the house. Bruce moved back to the table and sat across from Ivan. The Electrike hopped up in the chair next to his.

“Does he have to follow you everywhere?"

“She. Alyssa has gotten a little attached to me after hatching." He turned to the beast and started petting it. “Yes, you cute little zapper." Ivan furrowed his brow and continued to drink his coffee. “When are you going to get a Pokémon of your own? You don't have one, do you?" Bruce asked, his attention still wholly on his pet.

“Do I need one?"

“Seems a little weird you don't."

Ivan decided not to comment on the weird mushy faces Bruce was making at the Electrike. “I think it's weirder everyone seems to have one. It's not like my job needs one."

“They're good friends, too." Bruce's petting became more excited. “Aren't you? Aren't you, Alyssa?"

“My dad had one of those balloon things when I was a kid. I don't think it liked me very much." He peered down into his cup, just to get away from the embarrassing scene in front of him. “You've only got those things since you're an electrician." That thing was probably an electric type, considering its name. His attention shifted to the wonderful living room they sat in. Being an electrician must've had its benefits.

“I'm sure you can get one to help you with, uhm." Bruce looked over at Ivan. “Your computer-y stuff." Ivan opened his mouth to clarify his occupation, but shut it as he realized the explanation would, again, boil down to computer-y stuff. “You could get a small one for your apartment. Can never have too many friends, right?" Alyssa barked. “Right."

Too many friends. Ivan took another sip. “Great coffee by the way." He held up his mug.

“You want the machine? I've been trying to wean myself off of caffeine." Bruce pointed back at the device.

Ivan gave it a long stare. “Nah, you can keep it. My kitchen is a bit of a mess."

“I bet it would be great for long nights on the radio. Gosh." Bruce wistfully stared into the ceiling with a smile on his face. He could find so much amusement in the simplest things. Maybe that's why they were friends, Ivan thought to himself. “You know, I've heard some Pokémon can emit signals themselves. I bet you could talk to them, like a walkie talkie."

“Now why would you want to do that?" He looked down at the grubby little monster in front of him.

Bruce snapped away from his staring and shrugged. “Dunno, sounds cool to me, though." Alyssa barked and jumped onto the table, causing Ivan to flinch. He silently hoped it went unnoticed. “Alright, more attention for you, little one."

Ivan downed the rest of his coffee and placed the mug back on the table. “Well, I'm done. Thanks again for the drink."

“Sure, no problem." Bruce waved him off. “Have a good day!"

“Likewise." Ivan glanced at the green creature again before nodding and heading off. Down the foyer, through the front door, and back out into reality. The sun had begun to set, making the suburbs a gentle orange. He smacked his lips a few times, trying to remove the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue. Ivan stood on the all too happy welcome mat for a few seconds, wondering what he should do next in his free time. He pocketed his hands and decided to head home.

The suburbs sat on the edge of the metropolis Ivan lived in. It was a nice change of pace from the hustle and bustle of the city. In fact, it was quite peaceful in comparison. Few cars drove by, and even fewer walked the streets, taking up his precious space. But sure enough, the tendrils of the city started to take hold as he walked further and further down the road.

Buildings became taller, the sidewalks became bigger, the air took on a taste of artificiality. Almost back home, Ivan thought to himself. Along with the flood of new people came various animals trundling alongside them. All sorts of shapes and sizes. They ranged from small and harmless to large and imposing. Their many cries added to the rumble of the city. It was far too much. Ivan sped up his pace and hurried on home, not wanting to be trampled by anything, or done in by their bizarre attacks.

Ivan rushed into his building in a subdued panic, ignoring everyone around him. He moved up to the elevator and quietly hammered the call button. The eventual ding was a godsend, and the doors sliding open might as well have been the gates of heaven opening. He stepped aboard and quickly pushed his appropriate floor. As the elevator ascended, he realized how ridiculous he must've seemed and crossed his arms with a huff. He stepped out on his floor and grumbled all the way to his apartment.

Being inside his apartment helped to ease his nerves somewhat. It was like sealing himself away from the harm. He leaned back against the door and let the familiar stuffy air calm him down. “Alright," he whispered. Suddenly he realized that he hadn't locked the door. The unease started creeping back in, coming to a halt as he clicked the lock shut. A tug on the door to make absolutely sure it was locked. There, done.

Ivan stood in what could be called a foyer. The small hallway extended into a minuscule kitchen with a dreary window that lit up the room in a dull grey. He moved into the kitchen and peered into his fridge. A scarce amount of foods and drinks sat inside. He wasn't quite sure why he bothered with this ritual. It wouldn't ever change. He looked over at the bare counters next to him. Nothing new there either.

With nothing else to do, Ivan retreated back to his room. It was probably the biggest room in his apartment, and he wasn't sure if he would trade that extra space for a living room. Not that he would have guests over anyways. His bedroom had the usual array of bedroom things. Bed, chair, desk, computer, and drawers. A slightly larger and cleaner window gave this room much needed light. He shut the door behind him and moved up to the window to stare down at the people below. Despite being an artificial city, the people and Pokémon below added a colorful life to the streets.

While Ivan observed the stream of people, he thought on what he should do next. His options were numerous and varied. Wasting time on the computer, or sleeping. He glanced back at his room. The radio still sat there on his desk, along with the discarded headphones. “Better than nothing," he murmured to himself. He stepped over some discarded clothing and sat down at his desk. He truly felt at home now. With a finger he flipped the radio on. Instantly it started to repeat his homemade blippy music, streaming it through the headphones. No radio police busting down his door, it seemed. Ivan tapped his fingers on the table, wondering if he should really try figuring the device all over again.

He sighed and picked up the manual.

_

Night had come relatively quickly. Ivan had surprised himself with how much he remembered of the technical word salad. His amusing little signal continued to hum away the entire time. It had become a nice comforting theme that helped tune out the outside world, whatever amount of it seeped in. At some point he had gotten bored of reading and inadvertently started wondering who was the person who had to put this manual together. Were they as bored as he was when making it? “How much do manual makers... writers? Is it writers?" While he mused, the technical tune began to fade, being replaced by that assaulting stream of noises. It was back.

Ivan didn't panic, however. Considering no one personally accosted him and he didn't receive any threatening messages, it was probably nothing. It was a curio that could've come from anywhere. The manual did mention something about odd signals somewhere in that mess of text. The signal continued its repetitive pattern, moving from large sweeps to repeated strained hiss of static. He raised his hand to change the signal. The crackle of noise raised in pitch. He paused. The signal maintained its high whine. Ivan tilted his head and lowered his hand. As if by command, the sound dropped in unison.

“Huh." Ivan flapped his arm stupidly, listening to the signal change with his silly movements. Up, down, side to side. “I'm the signal? That's boring." He continued to play about with the sound, but a small thud at his window drew his eyes away from his fancy rectangle. Two bits of light beamed out from just under the full moon. It wouldn't have warranted much attention, until they appeared to grow. Getting larger, or getting closer? Ivan stood up, flicked on the lights, and moved over to the window. Getting closer, it seemed. “Plane? Helicopter?" He tapped his chin and squinted.

In a split second, a figure snapped to the window. It was red, and blue, and not quite like anything Ivan had ever seen. He tensed up. His mind told him to move, but his muscles refused. The humanoid thing raised some sharp looking tentacles and touched the window. The small tap caused Ivan to shiver. Painfully, his legs moved him back as quickly as they could. Unfortunately, he smashed right into his chair, sending him tumbling back onto the floor with a bang.

Ivan's body locked up again. The pain faded from his mind as he stared up at his window again. The thing merely stared at him with its bright white eyes, pointed with beady black irises. No malice, no hate, no anger. Nothing. It lacked an expression past a blank stare that threatened to swallow Ivan whole. Its tendril raised up to the window again, and gave it a gentle, repeating tap. Ivan didn't dare move. The tapping continued, not increasing, not speeding up, just the rapping at the window.

It took some time for sensation to return to Ivan's body. He slowly backed up until his body hit the door. The creature stopped and retracted its tentacle, giving the man slight hope that it would get bored and leave him alone. Its next move, however, told him he wouldn't be so lucky. Its tendril arms reached out and touched the bottom of the window. “It's locked. I always lock it. It's locked. It's locked. It's locked," Ivan assured himself. The jiggling latch confirmed as much.

The entity stopped bothering with the window itself. The frame jittered for a moment before the colorful fibrils appeared on Ivan's side of the window, pushing through the impossibly small crack. The creature behind the glass dribbled away into colorful blobs. Ivan had already guessed what was going to happen next, but was too helpless to do anything. The knob was just above him, yet seemed so impossibly far away.

Bit by bit, the creature reassembled itself from its weaving fibers, leaving the window behind. Its eyes slotted back into its head, completing with a soft hum. It was humanoid, to some degree, adding a sense of uncanniness to its general appearance. The sound pumping through the headphones became impossibly loud. Ivan quietly cursed at himself and the radio with wild abandon before he died horribly.

The creature leaned forward and extended its tentacles toward Ivan. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Silently they formed to a hand and graced his cheek, causing him to flinch. The radio went silent. This was it. He shut his eyes and braced for the worst.

Ivan wasn't sure how long he sat there with his breath held. It could've been hours for all he knew. No sudden pain came, and no loud booming voice telling him to move toward the light. Cautiously he opened his eyes. Instantly he saw those eyes staring back at him, forcing his eyes shut again. His breathing sped up as he braved another look. There it was, unblinking. Though now it knelt down in front of him, newly formed hands on its lap. Was it smaller too?

The creature didn't move. It didn't even have a noticeable rise and fall of breathing, but it was hard for Ivan to tell with how much he was shaking. He wished it at least made a sound. That would give him some clue of its intent. If he was going to die, so be it. “H—Hello?" he squeaked. It hummed back, causing the radio to crackle. Ivan jerked back, bashing his head against the door. “Fuck," he groaned, rubbing his head. It hummed again, bringing with it another crackle.

“Hello?" Hum. It was hard to tell if it was actually making a noise. It didn't move, or blink, or even flinch at his reaction. Fear was slowly replaced with curiosity. He tentatively raised a hand. No response. “Hello?" he repeated. The same hum emanated from the creature. Summoning all his will power, he leaned forward and gave it a gentle tap on its shoulder. Its head moved to glance down at the spot before snapping back into position. It similarly leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder. The force pushed him back slightly. “Do you"-it droned in unison with his voice-"understand me?" The radio shifted from a hiss of static to a low buzz. Ivan briefly glanced over at the device.

Carefully, Ivan stood up. It followed his lead like a demented doppelganger. He stared at the creature and slowly maneuvered around it toward the radio. The being tracked him quietly, and took a single, creaking step to keep its proximity. Ivan felt up the radio, blindly trying to find the audio jack. With a yank he pulled the cord free, causing the gentle buzz to fill the room. The creature didn't even give the radio a passing glance. Ivan swallowed another lump in his throat and turned the radio off.

The silence was deafening, but was quickly replaced by something else. Something oozed into his mind. A stream of unintelligible noises pushed on his thoughts. It became hard to think. The creature stared. Ivan placed a hand on his temple. The sounds increased, dribbling through his thoughts, causing them to fall apart. The creature stared. The man shook his head as his vision blurred. Vague figures appeared out of the corner of his eye, causing him to look every which way. The creature stared. Stop. Stop. “Stop it," Ivan said with a grimace. The world went dark.

_

“Hello," someone said. Maybe it was a person. A woman? Ivan blinked. Someone was in front of him. “Are you alright?" Was it actually saying anything?

“What is..." Ivan paused. His mind struggled to focus on his environment. “Who are..." No, that wasn't the right question. What was it he wanted to say?

“I ask again. Are you alright?" the voice asked.

“I'm fine. I think. I— I can't see— Where is..." The figure in front of him sharpened, gaining more permanence as his thoughts cleared. Except its face. Its visage was a warping blur that seemed to contort another way every time Ivan tried to look at it. “Who are you?"

“Are you alright?"

“No. No, I don't think so." The man managed to pull his eyes away from the humanoid and to his immediate surroundings. The room was small and looked vaguely familiar. It was a bedroom or maybe a living room. Its furniture seemed to contain an infinite amount of tiny details that moved about like a stream, fading in and out.

“I am glad I came. Now. Here." Ivan looked back at the person. Or thing. “It's... pretty."

“Pretty?" The word almost escaped his thoughts as he said it, as if it were being stolen away.

“That is it. Pretty. The space. Here. You. Pretty."

“I'm sorry?"

“Your song was also pretty." A song. That sounded familiar. A distant chime rung out, followed by fading tones. “I am here now. With you. As requested."

“I think I need to be going now." A sense of unease flooded his senses. “I have to go home."

“This is. Home. You called me. I came home."

“No, I was..." His thoughts escaped him. How did he get here? The foyer, the streets, the lobby. There was a missing piece. “I don't know this place." The figure approached him. His muscles jerked back but he failed to move. With a hand it reached out and touched his chin. It was warm and calming.

“Calm." Somehow he knew that was wrong. He knew that touch. “Calm."

_

Ivan awoke with a start, jerking up. It was morning, if the glaring bright light coming through his window was any indication. A sense of unknown worry plagued his thoughts. He quickly scanned the room for anything amiss, but found nothing out of place. Whatever happened last night, he was at least sober enough to climb into bed and undress down to his boxers properly. He rubbed an eye, stumbled out of bed, and ambled over to his computer desk.

Ivan pulled his chair out and sat down, only to stand back up as he hit something odd. He looked down to see his clothing neatly folded in a pile. He shook his head. “Must've done something wild," he mumbled to himself as he picked up the stack and tossed it onto his bed. With his chair free, Ivan started his daily routine of nothing much at all. Just going through the motions of reading the Internet and whatever caught his eye. A few news articles kept him vaguely connected to the world and some chatter with random persons he knew only casually.

A rumble in his stomach told Ivan it was time for a quick breakfast. Unfortunately he couldn't ask Bruce for anything this early, being an actual productive member of society. Instead, he would have to make whatever pre-fabricated microwaveables he had left. His phone rang, disrupting his thoughts. He quickly snatched it up and answered it. “Hello?"

“Morning Ivy!" Bruce yelled. Ivan rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Just wanted to call to see how you were doing after last night. Sounded like you had a lotta fun."

The man furrowed his brow. “What? Did I call you?"

“Nah, your girlfriend did."

“My what?"

“Just a second." Some fumbling came through the speakers. “Give it a few more volts, Marie." More fumbling. “Yeah, your gal. OK, maybe not full-time yet, but she sounded happy. Little quiet though, hard to understand. She from another region?"

“I don't know what you're talking about."

“Oh, don't be shy. We're good friends, you can share anything with me." A bang sounded off in the background. “Oh shoot. Look, I gotta go. Make sure you put in a good word for me if she has a sister!"

“No, wait, hold on—" The line dropped. “It's too early to be making jokes like this, jerk." Ivan rubbed his eyes and set his phone down. A series of beeps went off in the distance. The microwave? He moved out into the hallway. The scent of bagels was already on the air. Ivan rushed over to the kitchen. Something was certainly wrong. A fresh plate of the circular breads was laid out, glazed with butter. He hesitantly moved up to the plate. It was silly to think of breakfast as threatening, he knew, but it wasn't every day it made itself. Maybe he made it while sleepwalking? He looked at his room, then back down at the plate. That didn't seem too out of the realm of possibility. He scratched his head and picked up the plate, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Ivan couldn't help but inspect the plate as he moved back to his room. It seemed normal. Certainly smelled normal. Would someone really break into his house and make bagels for him? He laughed at the thought. That would either be really devious, or awfully friendly. Perhaps both. He sat down and delved himself back into his virtual world while eating his meal with a free hand. Not bad for sleepwalking cooking. In fact, fairly good. Should make more food while half-awake, he thought to himself.

Finishing off his surprise meal, Ivan let out a content sigh. A buzz filled the air. The radio turned on, or maybe he'd forgotten to turn it off. He reached forward and paused as a voice came through. “Good?" What was that? He leaned his head forward, angling his ear toward it. “Good?" it repeated. What a strange station. “Good?" the voice came again, a little clearer. Maybe someone was testing something. He shrugged and stood up, taking his plate with him.

“Good?" Ivan turned and froze. It was back. Its stare punched through him. He dropped the plate as his body went limp. The creature shot out an arm, catching the china before it smashed into the floor. It quietly placed the dish back on the table before walking toward him. The only sounds its footsteps made were the creaking of the floorboards. Memories of last night came rushing back. “Good?" it repeated. Its words pushed against his mind, uncomfortably worming into his thoughts.

Its head tilted. Ivan's thoughts quickly turned to panic. Escape seemed impossible. Before he could move, a set of its tentacles wrapped around his arm. He didn't dare resist. They were soft, but clearly strong, pushing across his skin firmly. They traced up his shoulder, across his neck, and pried open his mouth. It dragged him closer with a hum, staring even more intensely. Ivan hadn't the slightest clue what it was doing, but his scared mind could only imagine it choking him. It jerked back and retracted its feelers, forming them back to a more human hand and trailing its fingers down his arm.

Ivan could only stare. His breathing became heavy. He took a hesitant step to the right. It made no movements, just like the night before. Pushing his luck, he moved around the creature up to the doorframe. It followed him again, staying a couple of feet away at all times. He leaned over and glanced at the front door. Could he outrun it? He looked back at the creature. He took a deep breath and started off for the door as quickly as he could. Before he was even at the end of the small hallway, the figure dashed past him. The sheer force of its speed caused him to stumble.

The man halted his dash. A new form menaced him from the door. A sharper being, bearing fins and a more lean body. Were there two? He looked behind him. Nothing. He turned his attention back to the creature. It stood up straight, and for once, wasn't staring straight into his mind. The being jerked slightly before morphing into something else. Larger, more rounded. It hunched over and crossed its arms, then shot a glare at him. Ivan slumped. It was almost comical how outmatched he was.

Wait. Ivan walked back to his room while keeping his eyes trained on the being. He quickly glanced into his room. There it was, his phone. It was still on his desk. He rushed over to it and picked it up. Just as he did, another call came in from Bruce. A tentacle wrapped around Ivan's hand and snatched the phone. “Hello?" it warbled in a feminine tone. A tentacle draped over Ivan's mouth. “Again. Hello, Bruce," it continued. He turned around to face the creature. It was already back to its original form.

“Oh, hey, you. I didn't catch your name last time," Bruce responded. Ivan could only barely hear him.

“I am." It paused. “Deborah. That is."

“Ah, well good to meet you, Deborah! Sort of meet you. I can't believe Ivy didn't tell me about you."

“He is"—its eyes locked onto Ivan—“shy about relationships."

“Yeah, he is. Hah. Good to see he's finally got someone. How's he doing?"

“He is fine. Occupied with his personal computer."

“He's got a girl over and he's on his computer? Yeah, that sounds like him. Look, we gotta meet in person some time, I just gotta know who hooked up with him."

“Soon. Yes. We will."

“Goodbye. And hey, make sure you say hi to Ivan for me."

“Of course. Bye." Deborah set down the phone and continued its staring. Or she? Ivan was only more confused with the creature's facade. Her tendril slipped away from his mouth.

“You... you speak?" Ivan struggled to say.

“I speak." Words came from her, but she had no visible mouth. Unless the gash down her face was some odd mouth.

“Why didn't you say anything before?" He tugged on the tentacles wrapped around his wrist, testing their strength. They didn't even budge.

“You do not say anything. I do not say anything." At least she was a polite monster. “You speak. I speak." Ivan looked down, considering his options. There was only one thing he could think of now.

“Let me go." To his surprise, Deborah's tentacles went slack, freeing him from her grasp. They continued their regular stare afterward. Ivan wasn't quite sure what to do now. He knew she talked. If she was even a she. It was clear he wasn't leaving any time soon at the very least. “Why are you here?" He tried to ignore the absurdity of the situation.

“For you. You called. I responded."

Ivan looked over at his radio. The damn thing caused more trouble than he would have ever expected. “That was a mistake! I didn't know what I was doing!"

“You know now. The transaction is complete. I am here."

“Look, just go. I have nothing for you." He took a step back. She took a step forward. “Really. You don't want anything from me." Ivan held his hands up in defense. “Please leave." She was nearly the same height as him, but she was still imposing to an extreme degree.

“Why?"

“What do you mean why?"

“You beckoned. Why would I leave?"

“I didn't mean to. See?" He hurriedly turned the radio on, then started messing with its many knobs. “See? Look! It's all this machine!"

“You operated it. You called."

Ivan rubbed his temple and slumped into his chair, unsure what to do next. “What do you want from me?"

“You. Now. This is my abode."

Goddammit. “What do you mean by that?" It just got worse by the second. “Just say it directly."

“You called. I came. I drank your mind. I comply." Ivan shivered at the thought of her digging into his brain. “Your thoughts are troubled. I sought to fix it. You called. I comply."

“Just because I fiddled with some damn knobs, you want to be my friend?"

“Your song. It was pretty."

“It's just a noise!" He hit the off switch in a huff. “Can I go now?"

“I cannot let you go. I will not be able to fulfill my task."

“Believe me it's fine, I have friends."

“One."

“I have more than one!"

“You do not believe so." Ivan shook his head, as if that would stop her probing his thoughts. “I will stop." Seemed it worked to some degree. “But you desire more than a friend."

“What?" Ivan's face contorted into pure confusion. “What do you mean by that?"

“The term is wife. Definition is-"

“I know the definition!" Ivan rubbed his eyes. He desperately wanted to wake up. This colorful statue was proposing to him after he spat out some garbage signal into the trash pile of the city. Here's his reward. “Can't you just leave?" His head dropped.

“No."

“And I can't leave?"

“No." There was a shared silence. “Where would you go?" Ivan didn't answer. She was right. “Stay. Be calm." One of her tendrils lifted up his chin. “Here. With me." Her voice was soothing, but her blank, yet striking expression shattered any calming effects it might have had. “I am here. For you." Another feeler traced the underside of his wrist. Ivan swatted them away and retreated to his bed, hiding under the covers like a child. He completely rejected what was happening. This was the only safe abode from the outside world now. The creature didn't object. Ivan could hear the floor boards creak, growing closer and closer before coming to a stop.

If she didn't go away, Ivan wasn't sure what he would do. He wasn't even sure what she meant by her proposal. Was she even a Pokémon? She couldn't possibly understand what she meant, whatever she was. At least he wasn't dying. That was a bonus. Arguably.

_

Ivan couldn't sleep. The thought of that thing out there, watching him unsettled him to no end. He didn't know how much time had passed, and much to his displeasure, his phone was agonizingly across the room on his computer desk. Either he would eventually break, or she would come get him. The heat was becoming a little too much under the sheets.

Not a sound could be heard, making his hiding all the more tense. For all he knew, she could have disappeared. Or maybe she moved even closer, and was studying him through the sheets. He winced and balled up at the thought. Why couldn't he be tormented by a more regular being? Something like one of those purple witch ghosts. At least those were cute. At least they didn't stare into your very soul. Though, for all Ivan knew, they might be able to. If only he had ever bothered to get one, maybe then he'd have some sort of a fighting chance.

Ivan wiped the sweat off his brow. The heat was quickly becoming unbearable. He needed some air, but for some reason the thought of peeking out terrified him. That childish instinct of safety under the covers had quickly sprouted from deep within his mind and taken hold as if it never left. He assumed she meant him no harm. He knew if she wanted him dead, he would have been a very long time ago. Ivan took a deep breath and peered over the covers, then quickly ducked back down beneath. He relished the cool air that slipped in before it quickly dissipated. The creature, however, was nowhere to be found. Oh. Oh no.

Carefully, Ivan shifted onto his other side. Another deep breath and a quick peek. There she was. There, on the other side of the bed. Minding her own business. The vision was brief but simple. She stared off into the distance instead of burning holes straight through him and his own gear. Working up the courage, Ivan looked again. That was when he noticed what exactly the creature was doing.

Her figure altered, swirling around a humanoid shape. Her chest pushed out, back in, she grew in height, then shrunk. The curious ritual stopped once she noticed Ivan and snapped to him instantly. “Hello," she greeted flatly. Ivan was more confused than scared at that point, and sat up right. “This is study," she answered.

“Study?" He looked back at the wall she focused on. There it was. The one poster he hated and loved. A gift from Bruce featuring various women of differing shapes, alien and human alike with the oddest proportions. “Oh Lord." At some point he would just have to accept the absurdities coming from her, but this was too much.

“Is this acceptable?" She turned to face him with the curviest proportions straight from the darkest recesses of his libido. Large, red breasts punctuated by blue nipples. Their size nearly smothered the odd gem situated in the center of her chest.

“Please. Stop." Ivan struggled to look away. It was an odd scenario of human shame and arousal battling for dominance. The fact that she wasn't human herself certainly didn't help matters.

She shrunk her height, accentuating her extreme feminine shapes. “Acceptable?"

“This isn't necessary." He feebly held up a hand. She quickly moved up to his side and leaned into his hand, shoving a breast into his palm.

“Acceptable?"

“I— I—" He didn't know how to respond. Somehow she had managed to alter her texture, perfectly matching what he recalled of the few times he actually held breasts. “I prefer how you usually look," he hastily said. She froze, then carefully retreated from his palm. Her head tilted.

“Certain?"

“Yes." Ivan said, casting his gaze away. He watched her slowly return to her regular body shape. A small part of him was disappointed to see them leave so quickly, but shame had won out in the end. Though that little bit of him still imagined her exaggerated features. He moved back under the sheets, this time out of embarrassment.

“Are you staying there?"

“Until you leave."

“Then you will be staying." Ivan was annoyed at her matter-of-factly statement. Despite the lack of emotion, it felt like a spiteful response.

“Fine." Ivan sat up again, gathered up his scattered clothing, and started dressing himself. When he was finished, he sat on the edge of his bed and pondered what he should do next. He forced himself to look straight ahead and ignore the alien thing staring at him. He could still feel its gaze. “Don't you ever look at anything else?"

“I look at everything." Ivan didn't want her to elaborate on that. “You are the most interesting."

“Thanks." He rubbed his eyes. “I guess." He stood up and moved over to his computer. Might as well make the most of his house arrest.

“What will you do now?"

Ivan didn't have an answer for her. He didn't really have much to do aside from repeating the same things he did every single day. “You tell me. Apparently you're in charge now," Ivan replied annoyedly. He propped his head up on the desk and lazily scrolled through the Internet.

“I am in charge?" She moved toward him. A tentacle lifted him out of his chair, much to his panic. “I see. Now." Her limbs went to work, exploring his body. Ivan was completely caught off guard and only feebly struggled as her soft feelers ran over him. They snaked under his clothing, bypassing his protective shell. He hissed through his teeth and jerked back.

“Alright, you can stop now!" He shuddered as one probe passed dangerously close to his groin.

“Certain?"

“Yes!" Deborah quietly continued for a few more seconds before setting him back in his chair.

“Strange. Why stop?"

Ivan caught his breath. “That was too—" Sexy? Intimate? “Too personal!"

“That was not enjoyment?"

“No!" He already wanted to go back to his bed. “No, it wasn't." Ivan sighed and returned to his mindless computer browsing. While he tried to appear as relaxed as possible, that sense of fear resurfaced. She could do anything she wanted to him and he would be completely helpless.

_

Videos, blogs, forums, images, games, Ivan went through all of them. Mostly he was just trying to look busy and ignore Deborah. She continued being a statue, and while she didn't move, Ivan could still feel her looming presence behind him. Most of the time it was somewhat scary, but at times, there was some slight comfort to be had in another body nearby. Not that he would admit it. His sober mind still desperately wanted her to vanish from existence.

Deborah did eventually get bored of staring at him, or maybe she wanted to study other aspects of his being. She quietly rummaged through his home, scrounging through dressers and opening cabinets. It was strange to hear something coming from another room. Ivan considered telling her off, but they served as a distraction to keep her away from him. He enjoyed the brief moments of freedom from those eyes, though they still remained in the back of his head.

“Who are they?" Deborah suddenly said, causing Ivan to flinch. She brought up a familiar photograph. The only photograph he owned.

“That's me and my family. Please don't touch that." He would have snatched it away if he wasn't worried it would tear in two. Deborah quickly placed it down on the desk. He stared at the photo. The boy in the photograph seemed impossibly happy. Hard to believe they were the same person.

“That does not look like you."

“We grow old."

“When?"

“Always."

Deborah paused and shifted topics. “Where is your family?"

“Not here. Where's yours?" Ivan asked, returning to his computer. Fear fizzled away, slowly being replaced with anger.

“Here. Now."

“You can't just decide something like that, Deborah." He put harsh emphasis on her assumed name. “Where did you come up with that anyways?"

“It was a name you liked."

“I never said anything like that."

“No. Not said."

“I thought it, then. Figures."

“Before you denied." She took a step forward. “I apologize."

“Well? You gonna leave then?" He flipped the photograph over and slid it away.

“No."

“Forget it."

“I will." Deborah quickly shifted topics again. “What do you do for entertainment?"

“This." He presented the screen. “This is my entertainment."

“What of Bruce?"

“I can't see him now, can I?" Whatever on his screen was a blur. He was wholly unfocused on it. It was all muscle reflex.

“I am here for your entertainment." She placed a hand on the desk. “Transaction. Pretty."

“You are the very last thing I want for entertainment. This is far better." His mouse wheel scrolling became louder, as if it could drown her out.

“Is. Far better." She retracted her hand. “Far better." Deborah placed her hand on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth. “Then. Please." Ivan could feel her lean close. “Raw my perfectly situated hole. Correct?" What? “To feel your girthy manhood penetrate my--"

Ivan pulled away and stared at her. “Wh— What?"

“That is your entertainment." She pointed at the screen. “I am your entertainment." Ivan looked back at the screen. As per his usual lonely routine, he had inadvertently brought up a gallery of unsavory and erotic pictures. “Then. Tend to my steamy breasts and impossibly plump--"

“Stop." He held his head. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. “Please, stop." His hand started ruffling his hair. “Please, please stop."

“It was a failure. Then." Ivan clicked out of the page and sighed. “A failure. Maybe you would prefer more direct action?"

“No."

“Disappointing." Ivan couldn't tell if that was a real emotion or if that was a weird ploy. He didn't like either possibility. “Truth. It was truth."

“I told you to stop prying." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You said to forget it. Directly. Yes." The man sighed and left his chair. He strode into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. “Don't. Please," she said from behind the door. “Please." A gentle tapping came. “Please. Please. I apologize." Ivan sat down on the edge of the tub. “Ivan." He froze. “I apologize." She still lacked any emotional tone, but he still felt some level of sadness at her desperation. He shook his head. Shouldn't feel bad about the monster that broke into your home and took you hostage. “Ivan." But he did.

“What?"

“I apologize. Please. Come out." Her tapping continued.

“You could get me out if you want." A slender tentacle snaked underneath the door. “That wasn't an invitation." It slipped away. He couldn't understand her intentions whatsoever. She followed his every word but kept him under lock and key. Maybe this was a sick scheme. Maybe this was standard before she killed someone. Maybe she was keeping him fresh until she was ready to eat him. Maybe she was just lonely. Ivan folded his hands together. Just lonely. “Was the song that good?"

“Pretty. Ivan. Pretty." A faint whistle mimicked that random tune he made. “I came. To the abode. For you."

Ivan looked about his minuscule bathroom as he reflected on his situation. A radio called a mysterious friend ready to do everything he wanted, but he denied her. That seemed appropriate when she wanted to keep him caged, though it was true he would rat her out the second he left. That was only fair. To a degree. “You're the first to speak," Deborah said.

“It's just a radio," Ivan said, exhausted. “I flicked some switches."

“The right switches." She repeated the whistle.

Silence filled the air, and while that may have been normal for his small abode, it was somewhat worrisome with Deborah lurking about. She could've been doing anything. Ivan crept up to the door and placed his ear against it. He wasn't sure what exactly he was listening for. Opening the door, he peered through out into the hallway. Instead of being struck with a blank gaze, he found it to be strangely empty. Both relieving and adding another sense of worry. He pulled the door all the way open. No monster came dashing down the hall to pounce at him. Ivan walked to his bedroom door and looked in.

Deborah had sprawled out onto his bed. Not in any sexual manner that he had expected, but simply laid there. “I see why you spend your time here," she said, staring straight up at the ceiling. Her left hand gently rubbed the fabric of the sheets. “Calm." Her other hand formed and patted down the other side of the bed. “Come." Ivan furrowed his brow and turned his head slightly. That didn't seem like a good idea, but he didn't want to deny a request from her. He quietly walked over to the other side of the bed. It occurred to him he had never actually done that. That thought was quickly shoved aside as a tentacles tugged on his hand. He cautiously sat down. Another, more forceful tug came. He lay down quite awkwardly, taking up the very edge of the mattress.

“Do you relax? Calm?" she asked suddenly.

Ivan decided to sidestep how bizarre of a question that was. “I guess."

“You don't appear calm. I hear you. Your inside is loud." A tentacle snaked over to him and rubbed against his chest. “A loud song." Ivan paused. His heart was indeed hammering. Considering his home invader, that was to be expected. “Calm." She started tapping against him, mimicking the rhythm of his heart. “Calm," she said again. Much to his befuddlement, his heart rate slowed down and his muscles relaxed. “Quiet inside." She gave a parting tap and pulled her tentacle away. Ivan couldn't recall the last time he actually relaxed into bed, as bizarre as that seemed.

A sudden ring of his phone broke the relaxation he had going, disappointingly. Ivan sat up. “Calm," Deborah said, easing him back down while she sat up herself. Her hand extended out to grab the device. That was still fairly uncanny. She pulled it back and looked at it for a brief second before quietly turning it over to Ivan. He answered it with a bit of a thrill. This was his chance.

“Hey there buddy!" Bruce said cheerily.

“Oh, hey, Bruce," Ivan replied. He worriedly looked over at Deborah. She was back to staring at the ceiling.

“Just wanted to check in with you, see how you were doing with your lady friend. Oop, hope I didn't say that too loud." His friend chuckled. Ivan thought about that plain statement. It was probably blatantly clear to Bruce how pathetic Ivan was.

“Thanks, pal. It's..." Say it. You can do it. It's your key to freedom. “It's going fine." He nodded in an attempt to make himself believe it. Ivan rubbed his neck.

“Good, great! You wanna come over for some cake? A coworker just retired, so I've got lots to spare."

“No, thanks. I'm good and uh, she..."

“Deborah?"

“Yeah, Deborah," the name slid across his tongue oddly, “is good too." That was fear, right?

“Well, I won't hold you up then. Enjoy your time! Goodbye."

“Bye." Ivan let the phone drop to the bed. What was he thinking?

“He is a good choice for your sole friend," Deborah chimed.

Ivan didn't bother correcting her. “Yeah. Yeah he is."

“I am always available for friendship."

“Friends don't..." Lock you up, expose themselves to you, grope you. One of those, but Ivan wouldn't say it. He knew this was a lost cause. All he could do now was wonder how long this would last. He could just ask, couldn't he? “How long will you be here?"

“As long as I decide. Here. Now. Forever." That didn't exactly help or fill him with much confidence.

“I guess I finally got one of those Pokémon things," Ivan replied glumly. The bad joke did little to lift his spirits. “What happens when I run out of food?" he asked. That was mostly said in jest, but it occurred to him that might pose some problem.

“I can provide whatever you desire." Ivan quickly thought back to her awful seduction tactics and shook his head. “What else?" That question stung. There was nothing else. Ivan didn't respond. “Would you like foods now?"

Ivan shook his head and rolled onto his side away from her.

“I am always here. Friend. Best of?"

“Sure, whatever."

“Good." He felt the bed shift. “Good." She placed a hand on his stomach, causing him to wince. Something settled on his head. Her chin? Her stubbed leg raised and entwined with his. It was far larger now. “Comfortable?"

“I guess." She was still relatively soft, as weird as that seemed. A curious vibration gently buzzed against his back. Was that her gem-thing? He supposed that was the closest thing she had to a heartbeat. That was cute. Would have been cute — in a different context. Though even he had to admit it was nice to be held by something. Someone. As scary as that someone might be.

“I am comfortable." Her other hand managed to wriggled underneath him and wrap around to her other hand, locking him within her grasp gently. “It is good that you are too." Her chin rubbed against his head. “Are you enjoying this? That is part of the compliance. Pretty." Her soft fingers massaged into his body.

No point in lying. “I can't say no." But he couldn't quite be honest either.

“Which means you say yes." She beeped. She beeped? “Good. Calm now. Pretty." Another beep that increased in pitch. “I would like to ask. No prying. Words. May I?"

“I guess," Ivan replied with a sigh.

“Is this the best comfort?"

“What?"

“Is there anything more comforting? Prettier?" She tightened her hug. “Tell me."

“This is good enough." She must not have realized how intimate his entertainment was. He tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Having to explain sexual relations to her when she could change into nearly anything? The thought was worrying. Mostly for the sake of his tortured libido.

“I am happy. About this. Here. Your pretty song." Her hand traveled upward, settling on his chest. “Genuine talk. Not noise. Person behind the orchestra. Talk." She beeped and brought him that much closer.

“So you decide to trap me here as thanks?" Ivan replied swiftly. “Along with some other things."

Deborah's grasp loosened. “I did not mean such annoyance. Only excitement. Maybe greedy. Apologies." Her hands slithered away from him to his disappointment and relief. “Apologies." The bed shifted again, followed by the floor boards creaking. Ivan peered over his shoulder back at Deborah. She assumed her regular statue stance but faced away from him. “Ignore me. Now."

Ivan felt a prickle of guilt and turned back. Stop it, stop it you idiot, he thought. That's the thing keeping you prisoner. It deserves no sympathy. He glanced again. Her tendrils seemed to drop and her once upright posture was replaced with a more lazy hunch. She seemed so sad. No, no, no, that was irrelevant. For all he knew it could be a ploy of some sort. He paused. She really had no need for ploys, did she? It doesn't matter. “Sorry," he mumbled. Idiot. Deborah barely looked back at him. Just his luck that his warden would not only be some strange being, but a moody one at that.

There was an odd mood in the air. Ivan didn't know what to do next. A clash of uncertainty, guilt, and annoyance all scratched at his mind. He could just go back to his computer, but he didn't want to ignore Deborah again. His thoughts snapped. That's exactly what he should be doing. Then that small little voice worried how she would react in her current mood. His captor had been happy up until this point. Another sensation bothered his thoughts. Hunger. He hadn't eaten since that morning, and his appetite was all but non-existent after that. Maybe I should make something for her too, he thought to himself. He shook his head and stood up.

Deborah didn't react to his movement. Ivan wasn't sure if that should be reassuring or worrying, but he trudged on with held breath. He managed to get into the hallway and walk directly into his tiny kitchen. A quick look at the hallway confirmed that she was still watching him, as she had silently moved into the hallway. Not even a sour mood would dissuade her. He opened the fridge to look at what meager remains of food he had. Milk, various vegetables, a few cheeses, miscellaneous amounts of random junk Bruce gave him, and a few bottles of water. Hardly anything to make a meal out of, but he had worse to deal with on lazier days when he didn't bother going to the store at all. He thanked the heavens silently for having gone not too long ago, since it would have been incredibly difficult getting food now.

“Do you want food?" Deborah asked. She had somehow moved right next to him without him noticing, causing him to nearly have a heart attack.

“Holy—“ Ivan clutched his chest.

“I suppose not," the being said, almost tearfully. She walked away, her feet dragging across the floor. Ivan frowned and watched her slip back into his room before he turned his attention back to the fridge. Another 'sorry' tugged at his lips, but he refused to say it. He quietly picked out some ingredients for his lunch. He settled on a bachelor's meal of a sandwich made out of whatever seemed vaguely appealing.

Ivan pulled out everything and set them down on the counter. He stole a look back at the hallway. Deborah wasn't there. No hard stare to keep him in line. His eyes wandered over to the front door. Escape seemed less and less favorable. She would probably drag him back, right? No real point in trying when she was so fast. Right. He nodded and mindlessly started making his meal.

The man set out the bread and held up the bag. Maybe he really should treat her to something. Just to ease her nerves and prevent any horrible incidents. Right? That made sense. Sandwiches for survival. He grabbed two more slices and paused. Did Deborah actually eat? She should appreciate the gesture nonetheless, considering how much she doted on him. He imagined her face splitting open and downing the meal, plate and all. Ivan shoved the horrifying thought out of his mind and returned to his task. Every so often, Ivan would look about for Deborah, just to make sure she wouldn't give him another heart attack.

It wasn't long before Ivan finished his crummy meal and immediately started wondering what in the world he was doing. He stared down at the food and narrowed his eyes. Sure, just feed your weird alien friend, should turn out great. With a sigh he picked up the plate and carefully walked back to his room, eyes glued to the plate.

Ivan turned the corner and found an interesting sight. Deborah had taken up his computer seat and looked down at the desk. In front of her was a generic space marine figurine Ivan vaguely recalled owning. Next to the figurine was an equally generic figurine, an alien monster. They were probably from some videogame he was briefly interested in. He took a step closer and noticed they were situated sitting at a little table. A table made out of cardboard? Where did she get that?

Deborah manipulated the toys expertly. Her hands had morphed into very small tendrils, each one moving a part on the toys. She let out a high-pitched stream of tones as she moved the alien, then shifted to a lower pitch as the soldier moved. It was impressive and also somewhat unsettling how fluidly she moved the toys, as if they were alive themselves. A tentacle of hers wormed away to rip out something from under his bed, pulling free a chunk of cardboard. It was quickly folded and reassembled into another bit of toy furniture. The two toys moved to the rectangular platform and stiffly raised their arms, forced into each other's embrace.

Ivan furrowed his brow and took a step forward, trying to get a better look at the little play. The floor creaked. Deborah immediately looked up at Ivan and swept the figures aside, sending them clattering to the floor along with their little cardboard props. “Hello," she greeted after a few seconds of silence.

“Um, hi," Ivan replied. He looked over at the action figures with a furrowed brow. Deborah quickly stood up and stepped in front of them.

“You made food. Good. Yes."

“Yeah, right." He shifted his gaze back to his plate. “Look." He paused, still wrestling with his mind why he bothered making her a meal too.

“I am looking," she said. Deborah took a step forward.

“Right. I made two, so."

“So. Yes. So?"

“So you can have one?" he said with that inquisitive inflection, posing the question to himself too. Deborah stepped up to him and glared down at the plate. She raised a hand and lowered it down to the plate before coming to a stop and looking back up at Ivan. “Well go on, take one."

Deborah hesitantly picked up one of his sandwiches and held it up. She quickly turned around and gathered up the toys in a rush using her free hand. Which had then changed into multiple hands. The playthings were awkwardly shoved under the bed. Then Deborah sat down, returning to her regular stare.

“Uh—" Ivan started.

“Thank you. For this." She looked at his gift. “Delicious."

“You didn't... you didn't eat it."

“It seems like. Delicious. Very."

“What was that? With the—"

“Delicious. As I said." Her leg bent at an awkward angle and jabbed at something under the bed.

“No, no. With my figurines?" He pointed down.

Deborah gave him a long, hard stare. “I do not understand."

“The toys?" He still felt embarrassed calling them toys. “The ones you put under the bed?"

Deborah's eyes trailed down to the bed. “Toys? No toys. Not here."

“Yeah, they're under the bed." Ivan turned his head away in befuddlement, still keeping his eyes on Deborah.

“Bed?"

“Forget it." Ivan set his plate down on his desk and sat down.

Deborah moved to his side, still holding his sandwich. “Yes. Let's." Since he was clearly getting no answers, Ivan tried to ignore the little charade and started on his sandwich. That subtle sense of fear he got from Deborah made it somewhat hard to eat, but his immense hunger pushed him on. “Delicious." Ivan looked up at her. That sandwich hadn't moved from her grasp. She traded glances with Ivan before mashing the food against her smooth face. A streak of mayonnaise dribbled down her chin. “Thank you." He looked away before his imagination could take hold. At least she enjoyed it to some degree.

Ivan did his best to focus on whatever silly thing he came across on the Internet while he ate. Deborah continued to stand by his side. He was careful this time around not to gravitate toward pornography. Though he couldn't quite deny that he might have wanted to hear her take on sappy porn dialogue again.

“Delicious," Deborah said suddenly. Ivan looked back at her and noticed the lack of a mushy sandwich in her hand.

“You ate it?" Ivan asked with raised brows.

“Yes." The mayonnaise had also disappeared, much to his relief. Though the thought of her eating that too wasn't the best. He shook his head.

“Did you like it?" Ivan asked as he turned back to his computer.

Deborah took a few seconds to respond. “Yes." Her hand settled on his shoulder. “I must apologize. For the intrusion. The imprisonment."

“You could let me out," Ivan said sarcastically.

“No," she swiftly replied. “Others. What would you like?"

“Nothing."

“I must make up for the issue. Now. Please." She gave his shoulder a small shake. “To help the wound."

“Really, there's nothing you can do." Ivan sighed. He'd made the right choice when he chose not to have any Pokémon. Scary, needy, and oddly sexual at times. What devious creatures.

“Please." Shake. “Please." Shake. “Please."

“Stop that." Deborah pulled back her hand. “It's... fine, I forgive you." He didn't quite forgive her. That was a mix of fear and annoyance speaking. What if she decided to crush his shoulder?

“Forget it?" Deborah pulled his chair back and faced Ivan to her. “The wound is sealed? Truth? May I pry?"

“No. I mean— Yes, it's the truth." He pushed back in his chair, trying to distance himself from her sudden outburst.

Deborah placed her hands on either side of the arms of his chair, and leaned forward. “Speak the truth," she said directly. Fear pushed through his mind, but was quickly superseded by arousal. What the hell was wrong with him? “Friend? Ivan?" It was her fault. She shouldn't have been so touchy and... He gulped. And so experimental with her body. “I hear your inside. Your muscle beats. Are you healthy?" A tentacle split from her arm and probed at his chest, not helping the matters one bit as he remembered her probing earlier.

“I'm fine. Just surprised is all." He glanced away. Deborah followed his eyes and moved in front of his vision.

“What is wrong? I hear you. It is not fear." She tilted her head. “Please. Tell me it is not fear. We are friends. Now. Pretty."

“Sure, right. Please don't touch me." He winced.

“Why?" Her rubbing increased. “I enjoy your touch. Soft. Fast. Calm." Her hand joined in the groping, forming back up with the tendril.

“You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Ivan grumbled. “Please, stop." He turned his head away again, and Deborah followed.

“No. I must repair. Perhaps. Maybe."

“There's nothing to fix." He gently tried to push her arm away. It didn't even slightly budge. “Look, I'm sorry about what I said!"

“I am sorry. Not you. Switch." Her prodding slowed. “I must apologize."

Ivan was quickly catching on that she might be playing at some game. “Alright, alright, what do you want?"

Deborah stopped. “Say again. Tell me."

“I'm sorry about what I said." She beeped and gently circled a finger on his chest. “And I didn't mean to be so rude." Somehow apologizing felt simultaneously good and absolutely terrible.

“More."

Ivan frowned. “What more do you want?"

“The song. Pretty." Deborah turned him back to his desk. “Pretty song." She tapped on the radio and let out a few tones. “Pretty."

“I don't know how I did that, it was just random." Ivan shrugged.

“Be random. Make pretty." She tapped again.

Ivan sighed and shrugged again. “Alright." It felt like it had been forever since he touched this thing. The beacon of all his troubles and slight pleasures. He turned it on and it immediately started playing a scrambled tune. It wasn't quite the same one as before, since he had ruined it with his outburst. He hesitantly started twisting knobs, only vaguely recalling what each one did.

“Prettier," she urged.

“OK, OK. Uhm." He switched to another set of knobs, making it higher in pitch and faster.

Deborah's hand ran over his hand and down his neck, causing his heart to spike again. “Prettier." She let out a low hum. Ivan didn't quite know what was going on, but if it settled her down, that's all he needed. He raised the pitch again and somehow added another set of sweeping tones to the mix. You're serenading a Pokémon, he thought to himself. That's a first. He thought on the absurdity of that until another hand draped across his shoulder.

“Pretty," Deborah droned. “Thank you. Friend. Ivan. Here. Now." She sloppily wrapped her tentacles around him and pulled him up into a drunken hug. Far closer than what he wanted. “Friend." She nuzzled her blank face into his cheek. Cute. No, it wasn't. He quickly denied the thought. “What do you want? Transaction for the song. Make me happy. Make you happy."

“I'm good. Really." His libido struggled under the weight of their proximity and all that she had shown him.

“Good? You appear good. You feel good." She paused and pulled back. “You think good. Interesting."

“What? What do you mean? I said not to pry."

“I am not prying. You are doing the prying. Hard. Directly. Large and unavoidable."

“Uhm." Ivan crossed his arms. The small barrier did little to ease his emotions. “I'm not sure what you mean." Her wording must have been intentional.

Deborah petted him, much to his chagrin. “Your mind is loud. You are prying my thoughts. Interesting. Fierce."

“I'll... stop," he said, turning back to his desk. He desperately tried to focus on anything else.

Deborah stopped him and turned his chair back to her. “No. Give me more. Interesting. Pretty." She paused. “Prettier." It became harder and harder to shake off any explicit thoughts with her goading. “Pretty," she hummed. The feminine creature crept toward him. Ivan held his breath and quietly cursed to himself as she placed a foot on his armrest in a seductive manner, parting her legs. Her groin was entirely smooth, but Ivan couldn't pull his attention away from it. “More. I see now. Acts of connection. Sex." Deborah beeped. “Fucking." Why did she have to say it like that?

“We couldn't do that anyways. You don't have the parts," Ivan said matter-of-factly, as if his serious tone would settle his unwanted arousal. It occurred to him a little too late that she had zero problem correcting that issue. A small indent formed on her groin that grew in length and added plumpness on either side.

Deborah slid a hand down her abdomen and onto her newly formed entrance and parted her labia. “Correct? We will connect now. Become one." She beeped.

“No," Ivan barely managed to say. He couldn't, right? Not with a Pokémon. Certainly not with one that kept him prisoner. His libido certainly didn't mind having a shapeshifting partner that listened to his every word. He looked up into her stare. Nearly every word.

“Please," she said softly. “Please. Ivan. Friend." He certainly couldn't handle his name being used in that context. His resolve cracked.

“Are you sure?" he asked, barely believing the what he was saying.

“Yes. Yes. Friend. Connected. One and one. Together for transaction. Pretty."

And why shouldn't he? That was his reward for his house arrest. Ivan swallowed a lump in his throat. His heart hammered. It was a thrill to even entertain the idea of being with her. That small voice telling him off became quieter and quieter, being replaced by a warmth goading him on. “Maybe if you were... bigger, there," he said, tapping on her chest. “I would consider it." He was pushing his luck now.

Deborah pulled back slightly and glanced down at her flat chest. “But. You had told me. You prefer as I am."

“I changed my mind," Ivan said indignantly. That stung him somehow.

The alien woman stepped off the chair and went to work altering herself. Those familiar orbs came back, adjusting in size until they were more than large. “Acceptable?" she asked. Ivan could only nod. He could feel his erection stir. “Then let us begin. Please."

“Hold on," Ivan said. He took a moment to stare at her cleavage. “Say... Say those things again. You know. The uhm, entertainment stuff." He couldn't even say it looking straight at her. It felt wrong, and not simply because she was a strange creature.

Deborah stared at him. It almost felt judgmental. “You would like the entertainment talk?" Why did she have to say it like that? “I see. You would like me to fuck you raw. Accept your hot, twitching penis directly in my awaiting cunt." Her blank expression didn't exactly work with it, but he wouldn't say that. It was his turn to take control. “Is that acceptable?" She eased back onto the chair, presenting herself. “We can begin? Now? Please?" It wasn't as satisfying to play with her as he expected.

“Are you sure?" Ivan asked suddenly.

“Yes. Pretty. Now. Please." She leaned down, her face mere inches from his. “Pretty for us." Ivan pushed back in vain. The situation was quickly turning back on him. She pulled her head away. “Pretty. Show me." A tendril traced down his neck, over his chest, and onto his thigh, only barely grazing the bulge in his pants. Ivan gave a shaky nod and undid his pants. That was all Deborah needed. Instantly her limb pushed under the band of his underwear and pulled it down, revealing his partially erect cock. He let out a small gasp as the cool air hit his groin. “I see now. I see you. Pretty friend." Deborah beeped. Her tentacle pushed up at the base of his penis. “I drank. I saw your excitement. I learned."

Ivan could only manage an, “Oh." His eyes were stuck to her probing. The limb split into two. One continued to tease at his base, and the other moved massage at his balls. Ivan winced. His plans for payback instantly fell to the wayside as she went over him. His cock became erect at her gentle stimulation. It twitched as she ran her feeler around him.

“Pretty friend," she said quietly, “I hear you struggle. Would you like more? I would like more. More of you." The wary man looked up at her. She caressed him with a hand and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Ivan didn't have much of an answer for him. His mind struggled with the idea, but small taste of love she gave him was galvanizing. It had gone too far. But it had only just begun. Ivan meekly nodded. His heart fluttered. “I am happy, friend. Ivan." Her caressing hand altered instantly into more tendrils and wrapped around his waist. She swiftly moved him over and laid him down on the bed. Her gentle rubbing didn't stop for a moment. Deborah straddled him. “Relax now." Her hips came forward, hovering over his erection.

The man's thoughts were abuzz, tearing up his mind with questions. Could he do this? Could she do this? Why wasn't he doing anything? Deborah released his groin and both of her hands gripped his shoulders. Did she want this? Did he want this? Why was this happening? She leaned down, lowering her body in the process. What would happen if they went through with this? Was he this lonely? What was wrong with him?

Deborah embraced him.

Ivan's heart dropped and he became lightheaded. The thoughts plaguing him quietly faded away. His hands reflexively came up and joined in her embrace. Deborah nuzzled up against him. “Shh," she whispered into his ear. “Calm." Her hips ground up against him. He could feel her vulva grace the tip of his erection. “Join me. Together. Now." She easily guided his erection to her. He groaned and pushed forward in desperation, delving into her warmth. She squeezed his cock in waving undulations, milking more moans out of him. “Friend. Friend. Friend," she droned endlessly. Deborah gently shook and let out a waning beep as she more rigorously nuzzled into him.

The pair lie there, letting out their own pleasured noises. Ivan quickly associated her adorable beeping with pleasure, and she seemed to let them out in tune with his gasps and moans. His hands slowly became more curious and ran up her back, then down to her ridged abdomen. He was barely thinking, merely experiencing the sensations that went through him. His fingers ran down the grooves of her body, eliciting more beeps from Deborah. A gentle tug started on his pants. Deborah lifted him up off the bed, still keeping him underneath her, then removed his pants and underwear. Ivan's shirt soon followed. “Together," she said, rubbing up against his naked form. It was utter relief to be so close to something. So close to someone.

“I love your pretty song," she said. “Your body. Your sounds. Your mind." Her hips started to move, coming up and back down on Ivan's erection. Her legs shifted and wrapped around his own. He could feel them circle down all the way to his ankles. Ivan was almost completely lost to bliss as Deborah went over him. He quickly started thrusting against her as she came back down, enjoying the dull slap of their bodies coming together and the jolts of love that ran through his nerves. Her body was certainly alien, but entirely inviting. The buzz of her heart became louder as they continued their lovemaking.

“Pretty friend, Ivan. Enjoyment?" Deborah asked softly. Ivan groaned as she came back down on him a little more rigorously. “I suppose so." She beeped. Ivan clenched his eyes shut and gasped. The edge of his orgasm inched ever closer. “I feel you move. Preparing." She squeezed his cock, forcing another moan out of Ivan. He tightened his grip on her, and she copied him in turn. He wanted to stave off his end as long as he could, but his body felt the unbearable urge to continue. Deborah tightened around him again. “Enjoy," she said with another nuzzle. Ivan strained and gave one more thrust into her. He ejaculated a shot of semen into her. Her innards pulsed around him, edging him into another shot of sticky cum. Ivan grunted and weakly humped against her, sending off smaller spurts of his ejaculate into her. “Pretty," she hummed. “Pretty." Deborah shuddered and briefly went limp.

Ivan slowly came down off his high. He found himself staring at the ceiling as his thoughts returned to him. His groin was intensely warm. Trickles of their connection dribbled down his cock. While he stared, his thoughts quietly returned. This wasn't good, was it? He glanced down at the curious body on top of him. Not good at all. He sighed. But at no point did he regret it. This was wrong on so many levels and he didn't have a single problem with it. He paused and wondered what was wrong with him. “Lover Ivan," Deborah said. Those words sat oddly on his mind. She unwrapped herself from him and sat up.

Ivan looked up at his strange partner, still unsure how to react. His gaze landed on her molded breasts. “I really did like you how you were," he said faintly, locking eyes with her. The cleavage flattened out, revealing her shiny, purple core. “What do I do now?" he asked himself. Deborah tilted her head. Could he continue like this? Staying with this pleasant home invader? It's not like he had a choice in the matter. She would do what she liked. Somehow that thought comforted him. It freed him from the responsibility of doing the sensible thing. “I think I need to go clean off," he said.

Deborah squeezed his cock again. “Clean," she said. She lifted up off of him slowly, releasing his flaccid dick with a pop. Ivan winced as another shiver of pleasure went through him. He looked down to see there wasn't a trace of any fluids lingering behind. Briefly he considered asking her how she did that, but decided he didn't really want to know. Deborah lifted his back up and shifted him to the edge of the bed. He didn't protest, merely helping her along. She grew ever so slightly larger and wrapped him in a hug. Her chin rubbing against the top of his head.

Eventually her hug loosened and she settled a hand on his thigh, tenderly rubbing it. “Thank you. For the connection." She beeped. “What do you do now?" Ivan wasn't sure how to take that mocking question. Maybe as a joke or as a legitimate worry. This was his life now, he supposed. Out of all of the possibilities, it certainly wasn't the worst. She pulled back from him and repeated, “What do you do now?"

Ivan looked up at her vacant eyes. “Guess I'm staying here," he said plainly.

“Good. Good choice," Deborah replied. As if it were much of a choice. “Transaction. Friends." She paused and started changing her shape again before standing up. That sleeker, more pointed form.

“What..." Ivan started. Deborah disappeared from his sight.

A loud knocking came from the front door, spurring Ivan into a panic. “Ivan? You in there?" a familiar voice came. “Thought I'd pay a visit since I was in the neighborhood." As nice a friend Bruce was, he was too nice at times.

“I'll be there in a second!" Ivan called out, scrambling to dress himself. He tossed on a shirt and gathered his undergarments, hopping out into the hall as he put one leg through his pants. Deborah was already at the door, gripping it by the frame, staring daggers through the peephole. “Just a second!" He rushed over to the door and eased Deborah away from it. She stared at him for a moment until she shifted back into her softer, more approachable form. Ivan turned back to the door, opening it up a peep. “Bruce?"

Bruce stood out in the hallway. His cheery clothing being replaced with a more utilitarian outfit. “Hey there pal!" Bruce said. He held up a crinkly plastic container with half a cake. “Cake?" Ivan looked back. Deborah had completely disappeared.

Not wanting to be rude to Bruce of all people, he opened the door up fully. “Oh, sure, thanks, c'mon in," Ivan replied with a beckon. Bruce stepped inside, followed closely by a blue and yellow canine ruffian with a ridiculous hair style.

“Hope you don't mind me bringing along Marie. She's a hard worker too," Bruce said. Ivan stared at the goofy thing, and it did much of the same. Marie ambled over to Ivan and took a few sniffs, then shook its head and retreated to Bruce's side. “I think she likes you."

“If you say so." Ivan closed the door and looked about the room. Still no sign of his partner. Fear came slithering back. Though not for his sake.

“So where's the lucky lady?" Bruce said, setting down the container. “I was hoping to meet her."

“She's... around. Not feeling too well," Ivan said nervously.

“Well there's plenty of cake for you and her," Bruce replied with a smile and a pat on Ivan's shoulder. “Hope she gets better."

“Thanks." He looked down the hallway. Empty.

“So," Bruce said, bringing Ivan's attention back to his friend, “how's it going. You know. With you and Deborah."

Ivan leaned on the counter next to him. “It's interesting, to say the least." He rubbed his eyes.

“You don't sound too happy," Bruce replied. He glanced down at Marie, who was right by his side.

“She can be a handful."

“But you like her, right?" Bruce pulled a dish out of a cupboard and opened up the cake container.

“What?" The simple question threw Ivan off.

“You like her, right?" Bruce said again, with a laugh in his voice. He pulled a knife and fork out of the drawer and started carving up the cake.

“Uh." Ivan blinked. “Yeah. Yeah I do." Was he saying that, or was that just for the charade?

“So, what do you like about her? Oh, wait, don't tell me." Bruce held up a hand. “She's got those huge boobs like in your favorite cartoons," he said with a grin.

“No... She's sort of lacking in that department." Ivan paused. “But that's fine."

“Color me surprised. So why are you with her then?"

“She's kind and-- and makes me breakfast and uh, cleans up after me. She likes the things I do." Ivan scratched his head. “Plus she just likes to relax sometimes, and she's funny and shy and--" He stopped and furrowed his brow. What was he saying?

“Sounds like you got yourself a good catch. I told you you could do it," Bruce replied. He slid a slice of cake over to Ivan. “Here you go."

“Thanks." Ivan stared down at the cake mindlessly, still troubled by his words.

“She have a sister?"

Ivan snapped back to reality and sliced into the cake. “Not that I know of."

“Only one Debbie then? I'm jealous."

“Only one Debbie. Yeah." He took a bite of cake. “That's for the best."

The bedroom door closed. Marie perked up and started barking at the hallway. “Oh, she's here? Excuse me." Bruce leaned down and patted his pet. “Easy, Marie, she needs her rest." The blue canine uneasily settled back by its master's side. “You need me to get you medicine or anything? Still a few hours before I go to my next job."

“No, no. I think she just needs to rest it off." Ivan looked down the hallway again.

“Alright, I'm going to head out."

“What about the rest of the cake?"

“It's coconut. No one's going to want it."

Ivan slowly chewed and swallowed. “Oh." He didn't even realize until that moment. “OK." He set down his fork.

“You give her all the attention she needs. Don't want to mess this up, you hear me?" Bruce gave Ivan a firm pat on the shoulder. “Hah, alright. I'll see you later. Don't want to take you away from her. You give her my regards." The pair filed out of Ivan's home.

“See ya," Ivan said, then quietly closed and locked the door behind them. He looked through the peephole to make certain they were gone, letting out a sigh once he confirmed it.

“Call me that," Deborah suddenly said from behind. Ivan's nerves jumped, but he didn't move. “Debbie." A firm hand came down on his shoulder. “I like that. Pretty."

“You were listening?" He didn't know why he asked. Of course she was. Ivan turned around to face her to be greeted with her cheery blankness.

“Yes. Not prying." She retracted her hand. “Listened to words." They stared at one another. He was already used to it. “You said those words. You were saying the truth?"

“I guess so." He looked away from her.

“Truth?" She stepped back into his line of sight.

Ivan found it incredibly hard to face her or even speak. “I suppose." He clenched his jaw shut.

“Suppose?" Her head tilted. “Guess?"

“Yes. The answer is yes." Ivan shut his eyes. He wasn't really sure what was truth or not anymore, but saying it managed to soothe his woes just a little. He was taken up in that familiar constricting hug.

“Good. Good words." The hug tightened. “I say likewise. Kind. Relaxing. Shy." Ivan didn't respond, instead simply allowing himself to enjoy the contact. “Loving." She positioned his arms into a hug of his own.

“Loving," Ivan muttered. He slowly tightened his own hug.

“Yes. Loving."

_

“The city looks great tonight, huh?"

“Yes. Very."

The odd couple looked down at the metropolis from above. They sat atop the roof of Ivan's building. It was one of the few places they could be together out in the open. That was mostly assumption on the man's part. He still wasn't sure if there were any other beings quite like Deborah or how people would react to her. At the same time he didn't really want to know.

“A mess at times. Yet pretty."

“Yeah. I think that's kind of why people like it, though."

Deborah wrapped her arm around his quite literally and clasped his hand. Her iridescent chest gem flickered rapidly, seemingly in tune with her beeping.

“Are you... alright?" Ivan asked.

“Talking with siblings. I am fine."

“Siblings?" His brow furrowed.

“For Bruce."

Ivan was taken aback. “What, really?"

“I joke." She leaned into him. “Maybe."