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Survivor - PERM Edition

*****

Dear Volunteer,

We thank you for your application to become part of the Nexwork Studios' newest reality television show, Survivor - PERM Edition. By signing the below contract (and waver) you hereby grant permission to all studio executives and production crew of our network to film your everyday life for the purposes of the show.

You also grant permission to be subjected to the following:

• Male on male sexual interaction (willing or forced)

• Alteration of your physical body into alternative forms

• Rapid growth of your muscle structure

• Alteration of your mental state

• Being exposed to copious amounts of semen

If any of the above does not appeal to you or you are not legally over the age of 18 or 21, please be advised that you cannot legally sign this contract and that you should sit perfectly still while the Muscular Men in Black (MMIB) come to your residence and wipe your memory. Yes, we know where you live.

Otherwise, if you are of legal age, please remember that signing the contract is merely a formality. By the time you finish this sentence, you will already have been knocked out and shipped to the Island.

Thank you and we look forward to working on you.

*****

Day 1 8:00 AM - Jack

The world spun and Jack Riley had the horrible, sickening feeling of being thrown around in one of those spinning carnival rides that leaves those unfortunate enough to walk away from it with the unstoppable sensation of giving up their lunch. When he tried to open his eyes, the blazing sun above made him wince. As he tried to lift his arms to block away the bright light, the sensation of pins and needles spread quickly from his fingertips, up his arm and all throughout his body.

It felt like he had slept the wrong way on his whole body. He had to lie there for what seemed like an eternity, wincing at the sun bearing down on him until he finally could move his limbs with some semblance of normalcy.

With a grunt, Jack sat up. His clothes felt strange and when he looked down, he realised he was not dressed in the formal shirt and slacks he had been wearing the when he left his wife's grave. It was some sort of black futuristic shirt and pants that looked like it was made of latex or some other rubbery material only it felt like cloth despite the sheen. There was a name tag on the right breast pocket marking his name.

Panic was starting to set in but Jack quickly took stock of his situation and gazed around the room. It looked like he was in some sort of hotel room. There was a bookshelf that looked like it came from Ikea, shaped with a geometric design and appearing rather impractical but somehow holding itself together. He wouldn't have been surprised if there were a few screws missing though. The bed was the type that hugged the floor tightly but revealed a storage compartment if you pushed the bed upwards. The floor was white, polished and pristine. Everything about the room screamed 'Spartan' except for the rear wall which was made entirely out of glass and showed a vast jungle with a snow-topped mountain jutting out of the middle and ocean covering the horizon.

Jack staggered over to the window, pressing a hand against the glass plane and wondering if any of this was real or not. In the faint reflection, he managed to see his tired, ragged features. The permanent five o'clock shadow that hugged his face added to his age even if he was only in his mid-thirties. Short cropped, brown hair merged perfectly with the beard. It would have framed his bright blue eyes perfectly if not for the heavy bags that hung underneath them.

He shook his head and pulled his moderate frame towards the other side of the room where there was a sliding door. As he approached, it hissed loudly and slid aside. Very futuristic. A hallway presented itself to him on a white, blank wall. Occasionally, the bland white was broken by a few plants in similarly white pots. Monitors hung in front of him and once glance on either side of him revealed that there were other rooms and each one had a monitor in front of them.

Another hiss to his right brought another person staggering out of his room. A hairy, portly man with dirty-blonde hair and a full beard. He was dressed in the same black, latex-like clothing that Jack wore. Despite the paunch he bore, he had big, meaty arms that really showed through his clothing.

"Hi..." Jack began, raising a hand.

"Hey," rumbled the man, waving back shakily. "Ya got any idea whut da fuck happ'nd ta us?"

Jack shook his head. "I just woke up like this..." He gestured at the suit he wore. "You?"

"Same 'ere, man."

Another hiss, this one to the new man's right. A dark-skinned man staggered out, rubbing his head. Like the first newcomer, he was a little on the chubby side but was less hairy. The man's full lips parted in a soft groan as he rubbed his head.

"Man... What hit me...?" Dark eyes gazed both at Jack and the portly fellow. "What...?"

Before any further questions could be answered, more hisses filled the air and doors all the way down the hallway sprang open. Jack counted a total of twelve people ranging from the extremely fit to the fat and unfit.

He couldn't help but wonder where they were.

Confused stares were exchanged but no questions could be asked as a soft, sing-song tone rang through the air.

"Good morning, survivors!" The monitors in front of them sprang open and a broad, smiling face appeared. The sun-tanned features peeled open in a broad smile and his green eyes shone. "Welcome. I hope you all slept well?"

"Where the fuck are we?" barked, a tall, muscular fellow shouted. "What is this, man?"

"This..." the man beamed, pausing for effect. "... is Survivor."

Jack reeled back in surprise. "Survivor? You mean that old reality TV show that died out years ago? Is that thing still going?"

"Oh no, you mistake me," laughed the stranger. "This is not that Survivor. Nexworks Studios bought the rights to that a while back and we're recently bringing it back!"

"Nexwork Studios?" another man repeated but he was too far for Jack to really see. "Never heard of them."

"I would be surprised if you did." The man's portrait suddenly shrank and a big logo appeared in front of them. It showed, in big letters 'NEX' contained within a massive cog. The word 'works' was written in the outer rim of the cog. "Nexworks Studios, bringing entertainment in all its shapes and forms. Part of the Nexus Conglomerate." The man's face zoomed in, grinning brightly again. "And this show is brought to you not only by Nexworks Studios but also NexGen Pharmaceutical and GenNex Genetics in cooperation with NexSports, the one-stop-shop for all your sporting needs; now with gyms open in all capital cities all over the world. And one on the Planet John."

Jack reeled back, blinking a couple of times in surprise. "Planet John?" he repeated.

"Relationships with the Johnsons is a little strained at the moment," the man said with a bit of a wince. "Ever since we managed to successfully get male impregnation down, the Johnsons have been less cooperative, trying to claim themselves as independent. Our lawyers are working on it."

Again, Jack blinked at the monitor, wondering if this was some sort of sick joke.

"Anyway, I am your host, Steven McManus," the man said, still giving them that creepy smile. "And this is the first episode of the new season of Survivor." Big, dramatic music played for the speakers and Steven's face shrank to reveal a logo for the show. In big, bold letters, is announced 'Survivor' with an island montage in the background and what appeared to be monsters hiding amongst the shadows. On the rim of the logo were the words 'Prepare, Evolve, Rape, Masturbate'.

Now Jack knew this was some elaborate joke.

Another 'contestant' seemed to think so and began to laugh. "You're kidding me right? This is some pretty big budget prank here. Where are the cameras?"

"Everywhere!" Steven announced brightly. "That's the beauty of this show! It's the new reality TV show that does not hold your hand. In this incarnation of the show, your goal is to escape from the island.

"The rules are simple," Steven said as his portrait shrunk and a set of rules appeared. "The aim of the game is to be the sole survivor. The Island presents many dangers, all of which have the unique property that will alter you in some way, shape or form. However you are changed, the dangers will turn you into what we like to call 'Beasts'."

A thunderous roar cut through facility, making everyone jump.

"That's one of them now!" Steven exclaimed, laughing heartily. "There are minimal dangers during the day but when night falls, the danger rises exponentially. You are currently in the Safe House. The Beasts will attempt to get in here in the Safe House. Tools and materials in the shape of aerial drops will appear every day to aid you to defend the Safe House. If the Beasts breach your defences, you must survive or be turned into Beasts and thus lose the game."

"You must be joking!" someone shouted.

Steven just grinned and continued. "To get off the Island, a new objective will be given to you at the start of every six day period. These objectives do not have an expiry date so you can achieve them in any order and at any time you wish. However, be warned that you do have a time limit. If by the 43rd day you have not built the ship to get you off this island, the Safe House's defences will automatically be disabled and you will have no place to run."

"What!?"

"Furthermore, every third day there will be a Reward Challenge that will present the unique opportunity for one of the players to obtain a significant reward that could give them the advantage over the others. At the sixth day, players are given the Immunity/Elimination Challenge where they will be one winner and one loser. Those who win will be granted an immunity idol which will ensure that they will not be targeted by the Beasts for an entire 24 hour period to be activated any time they so wish within the next six day period. Those who lose the challenge will be locked out of the Safe House to brave the dangers of the Island and the Beasts for that entire night."

A tall, lanky man with spikey, styled hair stepped forward, holding up his hands. "Okay, I'm going to stop you right there. Steven, was it?" The man cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow and putting on a charming smile. "You can drop the act. None of this real. None of us have even heard of the Nexus Conglomerate. Just cut the act and let us go back home to our families and we can forget all about this. No one will sue. Right fellas?"

It occurred to Jack that everyone in the hallway was male.

Steven just smiled at the begrudging nods of the other 'players'. "The first rule of Survivor," he continued, ignoring them completely. "There can only be one sole survivor. The second rule, death is not an option. The third rule, the immunity idol is not transferrable. The fourth rule, every person is required to submit a five minute personal log every day. And the last rule, have fun."

Jack shivered at Steven's widening grin.

"Good luck, Survivors. Feel free to explore the Safe House. The first supply drop will occur at noon. I will see you then."

Day 1 9:30 AM - Vincent

The situation just seemed far too surreal to be truly real but there was no denying the fact that they were in strange clothing, in a strange house on a strange Island. Vincent's survival instincts began to kick in and as the other 'Survivors' began throwing tantrums and bickering, he moved to explore the house. If they were to defend the place, he needed to get a good look at it first.

He clearly wasn't the only one with the same idea. A big, brawny man with short-cropped blonde hair and bright, green eyes followed him down the hallway and out of what must be the living quarters. They reached the end towards the sliding automatic door before either of them spoke.

"I'm Private Craig Brownstone," the man said.

"Vincent Descartes."

"You from Europe?"

"Parents were from France. Born and raised in the US."

"Australia," added Craig. "Moved to the US when I was seven. Joined the military after high school." His eyes appraised Vincent just as Vincent returned the favour. "What do you think?"

Vincent cast a glance over his shoulder as the door shut behind them. "They are in denial. Let them soak in it for a moment longer. The fact remains, we are stuck here. From my room, I could only see ocean all around us. I saw few islands out in the distance but they are far from swimming distance."

Craig grunted as they stepped into what appeared to be a living area. Plain, white couches were arrayed in a circle around four televisions arranged in a square. Potted plants broke the monotony of the white. A kitchen stood close to the lounge area complete with refrigerator and what appeared to be a door into a freezer. A dining area stood right next to full floor to ceiling windows with a glass sliding door gave view to a gymnasium. A flight of stairs divided the kitchen from the dining area, leading upstairs.

The screens suddenly sprang alive.

"Welcome to the living area," McManus announced brightly. "Here you will find all the facilities you need to cook and maintain and supplies you will receive. These monitors will provide you with news casts of current island activities, objective updates, weather patterns and potential supply drops. We will also provide you with uplinks to your friends and family should you earn the right to do so."

The screen went blank.

"Taunting us with false promises," Vincent grunted. "We're trapped and they're enjoying rubbing it into our faces."

"It's ratings, probably," Craig muttered, crossing his thick arms. "I'll bet their audiences will go over the moon seeing us weep and cry when our families tell us how much they miss us."

"I wonder who would watch this shit show."

"Aliens."

They shared an awkward laugh from that though Vincent still held reservations about whether or not what McManus said was real. He was a loner by choice but he was a keen observer of people. Being a park ranger had given him some insights into people when they though no one was watching and McManus... He was just too genuine. He couldn't detect a lie in any of his words.

They wandered over to the far end of the living area. One glass door led to a hallway that consequently led outside. It looked like some sort of patio, a little atrium before entering the house itself. He imagined potential survivors trying to escape from the 'Beasts' being trapped in the hallway while their teammates watched them lose.

Craig went straight for the gymnasium and let out a low whistle. It was fully equipped with all the machines any gym junkie could wish for. There were free weights, machines to exercise every muscle in the body and even yoga mats. There was an unobstructed view of the front balcony that had a stunning view of a verdant, green forest. It seemed that their Safe House was located on an hill as the land sloped down gently from the balcony.

"This is the Gymnasium," came McManus' voice. His face appeared on the several monitors across the broad gym. "We care for your health and considering how you will be on this island for an extended period time while dodging Beasts that are your physical superior in every way, you must keep yourself at tip top condition. As such, we have provided you with a gymnasium. Connected to the gym are communal showers where you can bathe yourselves after a day's hard work and also a pool for those of you geared more towards aquatic stimulation."

Vincent wondered if these were just recordings or someone was actually on the other end taunting them.

Along with Craig, he explored the showers and the pool. There were no stalls within the shower rooms, ensuring everyone lay bare and exposed. That also meant the showers was not somewhere anyone could run to escape and hide. Though the toilet stalls could be locked, they barely provided any place to hide.

The pool was big, broad and smelled of chlorine. He got out of there as fast as he could while Craig explored a little more. Vincent stepped out onto the balcony and took in the fresh, crisp air. It was warm but not the tropical kind of warm. As he ran his hand across the railings, he wondered what kind of 'defences' would be provided to them. The safe house did not look at all that defensible. Yes, it was on hill but that only gave them a good vantage point. What use was a view if you couldn't do anything about it?

The balcony wrapped around the west side of the house and he found that it led straight back into the living quarters. He did not envy those who stayed at the west side of the living quarters. They were the closest to being attacked. When he re-entered the house through the west balcony, everyone else was gone. Just the way he liked it.

Right next to the door leading to the balcony was two, broad, white doors leading into the library. Inside, he found a young man with very thick glasses and messy, frazzled hair like he had been electrocuted. The man looked up from a book he held and instantly turned away.

Vincent knew survival depended on knowing his teammates - both their strengths and weaknesses. "Hi," he greeted.

"Hello," the young man answered meekly. "I'm Owen."

"Vincent," he replied shortly. "Where are you from?"

"Californa. You?"

"North," he answered shortly. "I'm a Park Ranger at Yellowstone. Was."

"Please to meet you." Owen nodded to the only other door in the rectangular library, the only break in a wall of books. "Dennis is in there right now. It's the camera room. You know, the place you're supposed to give a five minute spiel about your day. Did you want to go next?"

Vincent shook his head. "I'll pass. Give Dennis my regards."

He had no idea who Dennis was but being around more than one person at a time made him antsy. Living out in the forests for long periods of time with only the partner assigned to him did give him comfort being with one person but any more than that and he was likely to turn away and run.

Leaving the library, he followed the length of the living quarter's hallway and peered through a glass door about halfway door. It looked like there was a courtyard or a broad open garden at the centre of the facility. A Jacuzzi was available for anyone to use and to the west of the garden was what looked like a greenhouse. However, there were far too many people in there to give him any comfort of going in.

He left the living quarters and hurried up the stairs, hoping not to run into anyone there. He found himself on another balcony only this one faced east and from the way the wooden deck wrapped around the open courtyard and greenhouse, he guessed that it provided a good view of the north, east and west of the facility.

Daring a glance at the courtyard below, he watched the other contestants hanging around a monitor where McManus was instructing them on the purpose of the garden and greenhouse. He got to the point where McManus was explaining that the greenhouse was filled with genetically altered plants that would bear fruit every six days when one of the other contestants spotted him. Unwilling to bear their scrutinising gazes, he turned and ducked into the Safe House's second floor.

"Welcome to the Recreation Area," McManus exclaimed. "In this broad area, you will find various tools for your recreation. Naturally, at this stage, it is empty but once you win more Reward Challenges, you will be granted various forms of entertainment to help ease the tension."

The floor was indeed just a blank, white slate. Nothing of interest except for the glass windows that led to another south-facing balcony.

Vincent grunted softly as he spotted what appeared to be a fenced-off generator at the base of the hill. It was clever of the producers. No doubt much of the facilities in the Safe House - including defences - would require power and as such, if the Beasts got to the generator, a player would have to step outside and repair it.

He wondered what other surprises the Safe House held for them.

"This place is more a death trap than a haven," he muttered.

"Got that right."

His eyes darted to his left where a red-haired, brawny man stood, leaning against the railings with a deep frown on his face. Freckles covered his face in such volume that he almost looked completely red. A heavy, well-trimmed beard covered his face and his blue eyes were sharp and keen.

"And you are?" Vincent asked.

"Duncan," answered the man. "Duncan O'Keeffe. I used to be a fireman in New York. You?"

"Park Ranger. Name's Vincent. Vincent Descartes."

Duncan turned his back to the stunning vista and sighed heavily. "What do you think of all this? I think it's bullshit. No way this could be legal. Our families would come looking for us."

"I don't know," admitted Vincent. "Who really knows, right? This is pretty surreal."

"Yeah... It is..."

A loud gong-like noise rang through the Safe House and the two exchanged glances. They were halfway through the Recreation Area when the monitors sprang up again with McManus' grinning face.

"Survivors, supplies have been dropped." Their host's face vanished, replaced by a map of the island. The big, blue square was no doubt the Safe House and the red dot was most likely the supply drop. It didn't look too far away. Directly north-west of their position. "Good luck."

The monitors went dead.

---

Day 1 12:30 PM - Shady

They called him 'Shady' but that was only because they were all jealous of his success.

Samuel 'Shady' Norris.

It had a nice ring to it. Every time he heard any of his co-workers say it, he just knew they were jealous. Sure, in his business you had to be as cutthroat as possible but hell, that was part of the job.

So after McManus announced to them that the first supply drop had come, he was one of the volunteers to put his hand up and agree to pick it up. Three others came with him and he instantly began appraising them, sizing them up and taking stock of their strength, weaknesses and any way he could possibly exploit them.

Unlike the others, he had come to terms with this sudden drop in the middle what seemed to be a death game rather quickly. Sure, at first he had been sceptical - he was the one that attempted to coax McManus into admitting this was all a hoax - but he adapted quickly to any and all situations.

But the man that he walked beside through the dense forest underbrush looked like he was still trying to pray to God to get them out of this situation.

"You are religious man?" Shady asked.

"I was a priest for a small town," answered the man.

"Got a name, padre?"

The man's deep, black eyes threw him a foul look. "Conrad McArthur. And you are?"

"Samuel Norris." He held out his hand to shake the priest's. "People just call me 'Shady'."

"Any particular reason?"

Shady shrugged as they shook hands. "I'm in the rental car business. Not entirely the most honest business but I'll come out with it right now. If we're going to survive this, we've got to be honest with one another, right?"

McArthur's gentle, fatherly features split open in an awkward smile and he nodded. "Glad you came out with that information from the get-go, son."

It was funny, McArthur looked to be in his late thirties to early forties. Just starting to show the signs of crow's feet. With his shaven head, it was hard to tell if he was already going grey or not but he was certainly not that youthful. Probably just five to seven years older than Shady but the fact that he called the salesman 'son' was just damn funny.

Of course, Shady didn't point that out.

McArthur would be fairly easy to manipulate. Appeal to his religious side, act all repentant and meek. Easy enough. Probably get caught praying or something. Shady was already making plots to have the priest start a little prayer group to 'keep up people's hopes'. In reality, that just meant Shady would know where the suckers were.

Ahead of them were two other men who looked like they were built for strength. The one on the right was one of the youngest of the survivors but he had the body of a budding bodybuilder. He was tall, blonde, blue-eyed and had the square jaw of a Neanderthal. Some girls would find him cute but to Shady, he just screamed 'sucker'. The swagger in his step was a clear indication of his confidence. Whether or not he was scared was irrelevant. This guy was so used to being on top that he didn't know anything else.

The one of the right was a little different. He was shorter and had a bit of a belly but his upper body was very strong, probably a former athlete. Looking at the man's slight limp on his right leg confirmed that. His legs were still big and strong but that belly probably was a testament to his fall from grace.

"O'er 'ere," that same man said, pointing through the brush.

His speech patterns indicated someone who was very rough, someone who had little time for enunciation and was used to being obeyed the moment he barked.

Teacher? Coach? Personal Trainer?

One of those. He would be harder to trick since he was used to dealing with people and seemed to be a natural leader.

A soft beeping filtered through the forest. Nestled between the roots of two trees were four metal crates. Each was beeping softly, a red blinking light mounted on each of them.

"One for each," grunted the blonde titan. "Think you can handle it, slim?"

Shady pretended he didn't know he was being addressed and looked surprised when he caught the man's gaze. "Oh? Me? Sure. And my name is Samuel Norris. Just call me 'Shady', though."

The man grunted, offering a bright smile. "Okay. I'm Weiss Coleman." He bent down and hoisted one of the boxes easily onto his shoulder. "Sure you can handle one of these things? It's pretty heavy."

Time to test out his theory.

Shady bent down and tried to hoist the metal box up. It really wasn't all that heavy but he made a show of trying nonetheless. When everyone else had their boxes up, he followed them back to the Safe House, making a show of struggling. McArthur showed no signs of struggling so he played it down a little more.

About halfway back, he found a tree root that he purposefully tripped over. With a cry, he went crashing, arms flailing. Weiss was the first to come over.

"You okay, man?"

"Fine," he grunted, sucking air through his teeth. "Just tripped and fell, that's all."

The other unnamed man snorted. "Then get yer ass up an' pull yer weight."

"Coach, he could be hurt," Weiss protested.

"Survival of da fitt'st, kid. Leave 'im."

Weiss looked conflicted but shook his head. "I'll take your crate, Shady. Just focus on keeping up."

Bingo.

Shady offered his thanks as Weiss picked up both crates and began carrying them towards the Safe House. He made an effort to appear like he was injured especially when this 'Coach' threw him suspicious glances every now and then. That did not shake him at all. He had McArthur and Weiss in his back pocket; two strong people with very magnetic personalities. That could earn him a lot of ground.

Now he just needed the others.

When they reached the Safe House, they headed up the steps on the east side of the facility that led into that little entrance hallway. The glass doors hissed as they were granted entry. The rest of the survivors had gathered and eagerly watched as they placed the crated down at the centre of the bland living area.

Shady held himself back, attempting to look meek and modest as the Coach explained what had happened. He heard someone call him 'Monroe' so he guessed this gut was 'Coach Monroe'. Tough name and certainly someone to watch out for. As soon as Monroe was done talking, Weiss and McArthur went to opening the crates. Shady went to assist and found that each of the crates was easily opened. A couple of latches were the only thing that kept them from falling apart.

The one he opened surprised him in that it contained a lot of specially packaged foods. The packets were all white and had the markings of a company called 'GreeNex Farms', naturally part of the Nexus Conglomerate. Again, he had never heard of any of these guys. Conspiracy theories flew around in his mind. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he picked up one package and ripped it open. Orange, square chips poked out at him.

He was still suspicious and he pretended to eat one and gave a loud sound of approval. One of the younger survivors wandered over.

"Is that any good?" the young man asked, pointing at the package. The kid was scrawny and the golden tint in his skin belied his Asian heritage. He had a clear American accent, however.

"Pretty good," Shady answered after a fake swallow. "Try some."

"Thanks. I'm Dennis, by the way. Dennis Ho."

"Call me Shady."

Dennis had a bite from the chips and after he gave a nod of appreciation, Shady took a real piece himself and handed the rest of the package to the teenager. Dennis didn't seem to be much older than Weiss. Probably a college student too.

Wandering over to the other four crates, he took note of their contents. One crate held some frozen products ideal for the meat eaters and main meals but they all looks suspiciously big. One of the chicken breasts was as big and as thick as his head! The T-Bone steaks were too big, probably twice as large as a normal steak. He shuddered to think what animal that came from. Another crate had medical supplies and other bathroom supplies. Shampoo, soap, toilet paper and bandages were all pooled together. It would make living in this place certainly much easier but it was the fourth and final crate that gave Shady pause.

Inside were guns and weaponry but none like he had ever seen before.

The red head with so many freckles on his face that he might as well have been born red, picked up what appeared to be a hatchet only it was made of white ceramic and the blade was jet black except for the silvery edge. There was a red button at the base of the handle. When he pressed the button, the hatchet came a loud whirring sound. The silvery edge began to glow brightly.

"What is this shit...?" the man muttered.

Other weapons were revealed.

One looked like some sort of space-age gun. When the trigger was pulled, a bolt of electrical energy was shot from the barrel. It struck the nearby wall and bounced off. The ball of bright blue energy bounced around the living room, causing panic, until it landed in a potted plant. The plant went incredibly stiff. When poked, the plant was as stiff as a rock.

A loud 'whoa' came from perhaps one of the least fit people in the group. The tubby, pimple-scarred man with dirty-blond hair plastered to his head picked up what appeared to be a katana from the crate. His pudgy fingers ran across the blade with a gleeful grin across his face, showing the braces that held together his teeth. When he swung it, the blade emitted a high-pitched noise and there was a rippling through the air like the area of effect extended further than the blade itself.

Many other weapons presented themselves but it was clear none of them knew how to use it.

Shady spied some pieces of paper deep inside the crate of weapons and reached inside to fetch one. "There's a manual," he announced, holding up the pamphlet. It had a design for the katana and he handed it to the guy with the strange fascination with the blade - he recalled someone calling him 'Terry'.

He took a futuristic pistol for himself as everyone else grabbed a weapon each. It seemed there were only enough weapons for each to have one long-ranged weapon and one melee except when all were taken, another pistol identical to his own was left. Shrugging and giving in to his greed, he picked up it and its corresponding manual. He decided to avoid taking a melee weapon, letting Terry gleefully take a second katana.

Just another person that would be easy to manipulate.

"We've got to ration all this," announced another one of the tall, brawny members of the survivors. Shady instantly knew this guy wasn't going to be easy to manipulate despite his crew cut and square jaw. He screamed 'military'.

"My name is Private Craig Brownstone. Nice to meet you folks." Craig rested a hand on the box full of packaged foods that Terry had started tearing into. Terry took a few more packets and retreated. "I don't know what kind of sick game this is. We don't know what kind of 'Beasts' are out there but if we're going to survive, we need to stick together and keep our heads. I suggest we have a patrol rotation. All in favour?"

There was general consensus but as to who would be on the rotations would probably be the next issue. Reading the room correctly, Craig changed the subject. He was definitely not some dumb military jock. Shady made note to keep that in mind.

"Next, the food we have has to be rationed. We don't know when the next supply drop will be. So let's not waste what food we have."

Again, more agreement though Terry and another slightly tubby fellow looked a bit disappointed.

"Lastly, let's get used to this place. Meet back here for scheduling at sundown. Don't wander too far out. We don't know what's out there and you heard what McManus said. Who knows what'll come out when the sun goes down."

Even Shady had to share a chill down his spine at the thought.

He gazed out into the forest and pursed his lips, clutching his pistols tightly.

He would have to use all his wits to survive.

Day 1 5:30 PM - Jack

SR-M3 'Rioter'.

That was what the rifle was called. 'Stun Rifle - Mode 3'.

Jack leafed through the manual and noted how the rifle was designed with three hits in mind. The first strike would cause full-body paralysis except for major bodily organs. The target would remain conscious but they could not move. The next hit would cause unconsciousness and the last was called a 'displacement effect' where the target would be teleported to their 'home base'... whatever that was.

He had spent the majority of the afternoon getting to know the rest of the survivors. Cliques were quickly forming. Lance Monroe, Craig Brownstone and Duncan O'Keeffe were quickly forming what was quickly becoming the 'leadership' of the survivors. They had strong, commanding personalities and were experienced with dealing with people. It probably helped that Duncan was a fireman and considered a hero by most standards.

Weiss associated quickly with Dennis, Terry and Owen. The four of them made the youngest of the group, all college students with varying interests but their age bound them together. Such a relationship was beneficial especially for Dennis who seemed very meek and quite emotional.

Father Conrad McArthur was constantly speaking with Shady and Colin Washington - the African-American trucker - were seen together in the library for most of the afternoon. McArthur was leading them in prayer but only Colin seemed truly sincere. There was just something about Shady that Jack did not trust.

Vincent was off on his own and Jack only had a brief discussion with him but then the guy seemed the type not to like idle conversation.

From there, Jack retreated into his own room and studied the manual for his 'Rioter' and the stun rod he had picked up. Having never held a gun in his life, he was very wary of using one now. Still, he had to survive, that much he knew.

Then the light dancing in from the window of his room began to dim, he realised just how late it was. He snatched up his Rioter and stun rod, strapping the gun across his back while hooking the rod against his waist. He headed straight towards the living area where Craig and the rest of the leadership were gathered.

"You're early," the soldier observed.

"Just wanted to make sure I didn't miss this," answered Jack, taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs. "So what's the plan?"

"Let's wait until everyone is here."

As the sun began to set, the rest of the survivors began to gather. Weiss and the youngsters came in laughing and looking much more cheery. Vincent arrived but no one actually saw him come in. He just sort of appeared, eyes cast into the distance. It had gone dark before McArthur and his group arrived.

"I said to meet here at sundown," Craig said, glowering at the priest.

"We were in prayer," replied McArthur sternly. "I apologise if that interrupted your plans."

"Next time you start praying, make sure that you at least have the courtesy to plan ahead." Craig turned away from him, regarding the others in the living area. "Okay, so we've had a discussion and since there are four decks above us, we'll need at least four people to be on patrol. We'll do it in four hour shifts. At least that way, everyone can get some sleep and rest."

No one argued, they just didn't want to be on the first rotation.

"Lance, Duncan and I will take the first shift," announced Craig. "Who wants to join us?"

Jack knew that to increase his chances of survival, he needed to ally himself with the strongest people in the group.

He raised his hand. "I'll do it."

"Welcome aboard," Craig said, smiling faintly. "Who wants to take the second shift?"

Allocations were made and dinner was to be prepared by the second shift while everyone else got some rest. Clutching his Rioter to his chest and trying to keep himself from shaking in fear, Jack followed the rest of the leadership up the stairs out into the cold, open air. He was unable to keep himself from shaking at that point. He was allocated the north walkway while the others took the south, east or west.

As he stood on the north balcony, peering out into the vast forest, he could not help but shake and feel a sense of... insignificance. That a company could just kidnap them and put them into this horrific game... It just made him wonder what the average person like him could do to prevent it.

"Thinking that this stuff is just bullshit?"

He glanced over his shoulder.

Shady strode towards him, offering a wry smile.

"And how we could stop this bullshit," he admitted. "How does a company even get away with this?"

"Probably the same way they managed to successfully implement male pregnancy," Shady offered with a mild chuckle. He leaned against the railings. "What do you think is out there?"

Jack peered into the gloom. The lights from the Safe House could only reach so far into the forest and even then, the smallest ruffle of leaves looked like a monster plotting to strike.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I wish I did, but I don't." He glanced over at Shady. "What are you doing here anyway? It's yours not on shift tonight."

"Thought I'd just keep you guys company," Shady answered with a shrug. "It's a crazy place out there. I'm not good with a gun or a fighter in any way but I might as well offer my support." He leaned back against the railings. "So, Jack, what are you fighting for?"

"What makes you think I'm fighting for anything other than survival?"

"You've got that look about you." Shady gave him a shrewd, cocky smile like he knew something. "Everyone has got something they're fighting for. Sometimes, it's just survival. Craig has got that look. Duncan looks like he's out for blood and Father McArthur wants to make sure everyone gets out safe. You... You look like someone's out there waiting for you." He grinned. "Is it your girl?"

"No."

"Wife? Family?"

"My sons." Jack clutched his Rioter close to his chest. "They lost their mother a while back. I've been taking care of them since then. They're only thirteen."

"They...? Twins?"

Jack nodded.

"You must be very proud." Shady reached out and squeezed Jack's shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll get out of here. We all will."

"You think so?"

Shady offered him a sly smile. "McManus said that at the end of every elimination challenge, only one person is locked out. But look at it this way, when we stand out here, we've got a full view of the surrounding area. The way I figure it, if the guy that's locked out just sticks really close, we can still defend them, right? There might be a chance we can get out of this all alive."

Jack blinked at that revelation. Shady was right. With enough people, they could probably keep whoever or whatever was out there at bay.

"That -"

A loud gong-like noise rang through the air.

A thunderous roar ripped through the night.

They both spun towards the forest. Echoing booms ripped through the air and they both instinctively brought up their weapons. A startled cry erupted from Jack's throat when the forest suddenly exploded with activity. A whole platoon worth of Beasts came rushing out of the underbrush, heads ducked and charging.

"Holy shit!" came a cry from behind them.

A quick glance over his shoulder and he spied Craig lifting his own Rioter and firing into the darkness with precise bursts. A whole army of Beasts came rushing at them from the east and from the sound of gunfire, they were coming from all directions!

"Get inside!" Jack barked.

"Are you kidding?" Shady laughed softly, lifting his pistols. "You think you can take all these guys? I'm not backing down!"

Maybe he had judged Shady wrong but he had no time to think of that at the moment.

Below them, the Beasts came into the light of the Safe House. They looked like gargantuan tanks compacted into hard-packed, muscled flesh. Rough skin of different shades varying from the deepest black to the palest white glistened with sweat and accentuated every curve on their titanic, muscular bodies. Thick, tree-trunk thighs carried impressive, broad torsos up the hill. Horns stuck out of their long muzzles as they crawled over one another with massive, meaty hands.

"What the fuck are they!?" shouted Duncan from the south.

To Jack... they looked like male rhinoceroses but fused with bodybuilders. There was no doubt they were male either. He could see thick, leathery balls hanging between their enormous legs and a plump sheath bouncing against chiselled abdominal muscles.

He peered down the scope of his Rioter and pulled the trigger. There was a series of thwapping noises as bolts of blue energy shot out the gun's barrel and struck a Beast far to the rear. He saw the creature freeze up in mid charge and topple over.

The Beasts suddenly reached the base of the Safe House. All too soon, he realised there was nothing but glass barring the Beasts from the living area. He thought fast.

"Shady, grab everyone and bring them up here!" he shouted.

"What!?"

"There's only one way up and that's the east stairs! If everyone is up here, those things will be forced to come up through the stairs! We can catch them in a bottleneck!"

Shady nodded and bolted.

The sound of shattering glass made Jack's heart freeze.

Day 1 7:00 PM - Shady

All hell broke loose.

Shady didn't expect things to degrade into such a state so soon and he was charging down the stairs, shouting for everyone to get up the stairs. He knew that the beasts would have only two points of entry. The glass windows of the living quarters was one and the other was the glass walls of the gymnasium. He saw a few of them trying to break through the entrance hallway but surprisingly, the glass there held the charging of these half-human, half-rhinoceros bodybuilders.

"Everyone get upstairs!" he barked.

There was a boom and the door to the living quarters sprang open. One of the rhinos stood at the doorway, grinning from ear to ear with a feral intelligence in his yellow eyes. He burst through the doorframe, shattering it entirely as he charged into their midst. Terry, who was closest, squealed like the pig he resembled and tried to escape. Despite the rhino's massive size, he was unnaturally fast and bowled Terry over in one move. Too late did everyone in the living area realise the rhino's intentions as a thick, pink cock began emerging from its plump sheath.

Even Shady had to draw a line there.

"Get the fuck off him!" he shouted and pulled the triggers to his FP, better known as the 'Force Pistol'. Two thunderous booms exploded from the barrels of his pistols, sending out bolts of green energy that slammed straight into the rhino's thick chest. The blast did no external damage but upon impact, the rhino was hurled back like he had been struck by a crashing aeroplane. His entire body seemed to just crumple up at the point of impact and he was thrown back through the living quarters door. He slammed into the other Beasts and even their collective mass didn't stop his momentum, throwing them clean out of the Safe House.

Shady spent no time marvelling at the strength of his chosen weapons and rushed over to Terry who was slightly covered in sticky, clear precum. "Get up," he urged, hosting the young man to his feet. "Get up stairs!"

Smash!

Behind him, the glass door to the gymnasium shattered. The rhino had punched a hole through the door and actually unlocked it. There was definitely intelligence there but again, Shady had no time to ponder. He levelled his FVP at it and fired. The guns gave a faint sizzle.

"Fuck!"

He forgot the damn things needed at least 30 seconds to recharge before each shot. The rhino grinned at him as it stepped through the door with a slow menace. It took a lumbering step forward, several more of the creatures appearing behind it. All of them had a hungry look on their faces and their cocks were starting to emerge from their sheaths, dripping precum all over the floor.

A bolt of blue energy struck the first rhino's arm and its eyes went wide even though its features were frozen in the hungry snarl. It stood frozen, body halfway into the house and blocking the rest of the raiding part. The other Beasts let out frustrated sounds and tried to yank the monster out of the way but it seemed to be stuck.

From the stairwell, Terry had snatched a Rioter from a cowering Dennis. "Move!" he shouted.

Shady was stunned at the obese nerd actually giving him orders. Terry spun towards him, Rioter levelled. His heart skipped a beat when a bolt of blue energy shot past his ear. When he spun around, he found another of the rhino-people topple back. Despite his build, Terry fired another shot that planted a bolt right in between the eyes of another rhino.

He was a killer shot!

"Who would've thought?"

A ferocious roar made him flinch and he turned back towards the gymnasium door. The rhinos had yanked their buddy blocking the way and came charging at him in a row of threes. Shady lifted his guns and fired. One blast of green light struck the left most rhino, sending him hurling into the nearby wall. The other hit the ground and created sizable crater that sent the other two tumbling. Shady had to dodge away from the stairwell to prevent himself from being caught in their tumble of bodies.

With a cry, he bolted away from the stairwell despite the others already making a break for the top. He only saw one route of escape and yanked at the metal door of the freezer. It creaked loudly as he threw himself inside and shut himself in. Thankfully, there was a light so he didn't plunge himself into the dark. A small flight of stairs led into the underground freezer and true to its name, it was unbearably cold.

Shelves that stood mostly empty occupied the majority of the freezer. Some of the stock that they had obtained from the latest supply drop sat in the far wall but it was mostly empty. He heard something or someone slam into the door behind him and he threw his weight against the metal frame. He pulled the internal lock, effectively sealing himself inside.

A shout exploded from the other side of the door.

"Ya'll freeze in there, fucker!"

His eyes boggled.

They could talk... the Beasts could talk!

"Why dontcha come out here so I can warm ya up?" Then came a menacing laugh.

Not only were they cunning but they were goddamn intelligent!

"Just what is this game...?"

Adrenaline kept him warm for a few seconds more. The occasional roar or crashing noise would send a fresh wave through his bloodstream but the cold of the freezer was settling in. Recalling something he learned back when he was a Boy Scout, he ran a few laps up and down the stairs to keep the blood flowing. Every loud boom or thunderous smash would have him casting a fearful glance at the metal door. It was secure and looked like it could give a tank pause but with those rhinos out there built like thanks... He just wasn't sure it would hold.

Boom!

The door shuddered and he reflexively brought up his FPs.

Nothing... Just taunting, dark laughter.

After about the fifth time that happened, he stopped jumping and tried to wander around the small freezer trying to keep warm. He wasn't sure how long it was but the booms eased for a while.

Then it came again.

Boom!

And more laughter.

The bastards were taunting him, trying to break his spirit!

"You think I'll cave that easily!?" he shouted, shaking a fist at the foes on the other side. "Think again!"

He was only met with more laughter and taunts. It sounded like there were several of them now. God, he hoped they'd just go away once the sun rises. The problem was, he had no idea how long that was. The sun had just set... He wondered how long he could stay awake and unfrozen.

"Got to keep my mind off freezing," he muttered, slapping his cheeks to get some warmth in them. To his dismay, they already felt like icicles. "Think warm thoughts..." That only brought up images of those big rhinos and how they intended to 'warm him'. With a disgusted grunt, he spun towards the freezer, looking for something to occupy his mind.

"They won't break me," he muttered.

But an idea sprang into his mind as his eyes settled on the food stores.

"No..." he whispered, a dark smile crossing his features. "They won't break me."

Day 2 1:00 AM - Vincent

At about midnight, McManus had appeared on the screens again, greeting them jovially and asking them how they were doing. There were a lot of shouts, shaking fists and swearing but no energy could be expended on that thought. The 'High Horns' as they were called were relentless in their assault and while many of them had started stacking up at the bottom of the stairs, they continued to come at them blindly without much thought or strategy.

That made it extremely easy for Vincent to climb the greenhouse and perch himself at a position where he had a perfect view of the gymnasium and living quarters. His chosen long ranged weapon was affectionately called the 'Asylum' for one reason alone. It apparently fired a dart that, when it struck an organic target, would send their body into a sort of hypnotic trance where their friends would be their enemies and their enemies their friends. It would send foes to the 'mental Asylum'. The only drawback was that it relied on actual ammunition meaning he had finite ammunition.

Peering down the scope, he spied several of the High Horns trying to quietly sneak through the gymnasium and into the living room. He aimed for the neck of the closest one and fired. There wasn't even a sound when the dart left the long barrel of the rifle. It struck the High Horn's neck and the Beast's eyes went wide. His pupils dilated and he instantly swung at the closest High Horn. They went down in a tumble with the first brutally shoving his cock down the muzzle of the stunned victim.

Vincent scowled at the display of debauchery, holding back a shudder at the possibility that he or any of the other survivors could be forced to eat that thick, foot long rhino meat. He carefully reached into the packet of darts that hung from his hip and placed a new one into the barrel. Taking aim, he swivelled around to level his gun towards the living quarters. The number of High Horns had thinned as many of them lay at the foot of the stairs, paralysed or unconscious.

They had figured out earlier on that if they just kept their foes stunned, the number of High Horns would whittle down. The theory was that the _Rioter_s third shot effect actually threw the Beasts back to where they came from, fully conscious and ready to go again. If they just kept the bad guys in the Safe House, they could keep the invaders at bay.

More High Horns came through the broken windows of the living quarters and mistakenly began sneaking through the hallways. Vincent fired another shot. Another High Horn went wild on his comrades. After shoving his monstrous cock into another's ass, they went tumbling out of the living quarters and into the courtyard.

Of the five there, one of them spotted him.

He gave them a taunting salute and picked up the Rioter he had borrowed from one of the others. Two of the Beasts he managed to paralyse while the third darted back into the house out of his range. The last two were the ones caught in a tangle of bodies and semen, their enormous, muscular bodies undulating in a fierce half-wrestle, half-rape scene. He let them go at it, quietly chuckling to himself as he watched friend turn on friend. It gave him a degree of pleasure to see the monsters that had sought to kill them turn on one another.

With that thought in mind, he picked up one of the darts in the pouch and placed it into the barrel again. He then plucked another and placed it into the breast pocket of his latex-like attire.

A smile crossed his features as he patted it lightly. "This one's for you, McManus."

"Psst. Vincent."

He glanced over to his right even as he stared down the barrel of his rifle at a few more High Horns emerging from the gymnasium. Owen crawled up to him, shakily striding over with another Asylum in his hands. "Monroe said it's time to switch."

Shaking his head, Vincent fired another round and watched the gymnasium devolve into a free for all. "I'm good. Go get some sleep, kid."

"You sure?"

He loaded another dart and quickly fired it again. Those inside the gymnasium were throw into utter disarray. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Need the company?"

"No," was his immediate reply.

"Oh... Okay. Just that, you know, it's a long night and -"

"Go."

For emphasise his point, he loaded another dart and fired it into the living quarters. Another Big Horn went berserk.

He heard Owen slink away.

After about an hour or two, Vincent decided that he had best spare his darts and switched to his Rioter. It was far from silent but the Big Horns were too big and too dumb to find where the shots were coming from. All he had to do was fire shot or two and one of the big rhinos would go down like a sack of potatoes. The more that were knocked out, the less he would have to spend his darts on.

It seemed like an eternity before the assault finally died down. Though it was still dark, the Beasts had stopped coming in numbers and only a few trickled in here and there. Vincent gave up his perch, hoisted his Asylum over his shoulder and quietly snuck across the rooftop of the Safe House, searching for potential targets.

After five laps around the rooftops, he dropped down onto the east balcony.

Craig was there to greet them while the other survivors rested as far away from the railings as possible, eyes wide open. They all looked tired but fear kept them awake.

"How's it looking up there?" the soldier asked.

"Quiet," whispered Vincent back. "I think we've got most of them."

Nodding, Craig hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "We're actually missing one person. Samuel Norris."

"Who?"

"Shady."

"Oh."

Vincent didn't like Shady from the moment he met the guy. There was just something... untrustworthy about him. Still, he could understand that the loss of one of their own so soon into the game would demoralise everyone.

"I'll have a look around for him." Vincent hiked a thumb over his shoulder back at the roof. "Give me a second."

"Be careful."

Taking the warning in stride, Vincent climbed back up to the roof and peered through his Rioter's scope, searching for any trace of the slimy Shady. He was on his third lap of the complex when he caught movement from the living area.

A human head poked out from the corner, peering left and right.

Shady.

Vincent couldn't say that he was relieved but he knew the value of teamwork even if he despised working with a team greater than two. His indifference was washed away in a sea of suspicion, however, when he caught sight of Shady sneaking away from the stairs and the bodies of High Horns there. Ordinarily, Vincent would understand the caution of avoiding the pile of muscles there but the stock of frozen foods in Shady's arms cast that understanding to the wind.

"What the hell are you up to, you son-of-a-bitch?"

Day 2 4:00 AM - Shady

If there was one thing that Shady had learned about human nature, it was that there were three foundations of support for any one person: food, funds and friends. Occasionally, there would be a fourth 'F' in there, 'Fuck' but considering how everyone was guys in this place, he didn't consider that a viable option.

Funds were also out and since everyone was still getting to know each other, friendships were tentative at best. But food... yeah, food was pretty stable.

So, if he took away some food and then came back with it at some undisclosed time, he could be everyone's friend and he could use food as his funds. He would be their pillar of strength; they would rely on him and ultimately, they would do what he wanted. It was a risky gamble but it would be worth it in the end. If anything, if he took away everyone's food, it would shatter what tentative friendships already existed and he could forge new alliances, making him the centre of it all.

That said, he had to plot everything out very carefully.

His first step was to get rid of some of the frozen food stocks. With a few steaks and chicken breasts in his arms, he peered into the living quarters, looking for any signs of danger. Much to his relief, there were none. Quietly, he snuck into the hallway, making sure each step was as quiet as possible.

He had made sure to memorise whose room was whose and after recalling Terry's keen sharpshooting skills, he knew need that kind of skill on his side. So, he snuck into Terry's room. It looked exactly like everyone else's room but the one give away were the twin katanas lying askew on the ground. Good shot but a useless with those swords.

Shady snuck into the room and threw the frozen stocks in his arms out the window. He stuck his hands into his armpits, trying to keep them warm as he quickly ducked back into the kitchen. A rhino stalked quietly through the gymnasium, ears swivelling around like twin radars and cock fully erect, dripping precum onto the polished, white floor. He waited for the Beast to lose interest and stalk back into the gym before he bolted for the kitchen and quickly raided the dried food stores.

After grabbing a few packets of chips and other foods, he hurried back into Terry's room. There, he ripped two packets open and tossed a few pieces on Terry's bed. Then, he tossed the rest underneath the bed.

Come morning, when the attack finally died out and the damage was surveyed, the survivors would find the scattered food in Terry's bunk. Worse, they would see those hidden beneath his bed. If no one else saw it, Shady would point out the stocks that had been tossed out. He wasn't quite sure how that would frame Terry as it would be completely illogical to store food meant to be frozen outside in the grass. But he was sure the sudden drop in their food supplies would spark the irrational part in most people's minds and made a scapegoat of the fatass.

Satisfied with his work, Shady spun around -

Wham!

And bounced off a solid brick wall. He staggered back and fell onto the bed, eyes wide in horror at the massive, pulsating, pink cock that hovered in front of him. The rhino grinned from ear to ear, yellow eyes gleaming with glee.

"Fuck yeah..." he growled.

"Shit!" Shady cried, fumbling for his pistols. Two, enormous hands lashed out and swatted them out of his hands. He couldn't even get out the word 'help' before his mouth was stuffed with a thick slab of rhino meat, pulsating against his lips and dripping salty precum into his throat. When he tried to pull away, the rhino seized the back of his head and forced him further down his shaft.

His mind screamed and though he thrashed, his weak strikes were nothing against the tough hide of the beast and the iron-hard muscles covering every inch of the Beast's body. Shady tried to scream, his muffled cries shaking the rhino's thick cock and only making the monster moan in deep pleasure.

"Ssssh, sssh," the Beast cooed, peered down at him over the huge mountains of his ripped pecs. It was actually possible to see every cord of muscle on those mounds. His thick hand gently caressed Shady's head, running thick fingers over the spikes of his dark hair. "You remember me, doncha?" The rhino pointed at his pecs. "You got me right here. Sent me right through the walls." A devilish grin crossed his features as he leaned down and - showing surprising dexterity - kissed the top of Shady's head.

A chill went down Shady's spine at the touch of those surprisingly soft lips.

"Gotta tell ya. Nothing turns me on more than a guy that can fight for it."

Shady tried to pull away but those thick fingers gripped his head like a vice and pulled him even closer to the rhino's massive crotch. He got a lungful of a musky, leathery scent that had so little oxygen mixed into it that he actually started to get dizzy. Combined with the thick rhino cock buried deep into his throat and he started to gag. The rhino began thrusting gently into his mouth, moaning softly as his hands kept Shady firmly in place.

In desperation, Shady lifted his arm and aimed straight for the rhino's apple-sized balls.

Thwack!

The Beast grinned down at him and pinned him against the bed. Seizing both his hands, the rhino pinned them above his head with one hand while he wantonly began thrusting his cock into Shady's throat. Hot streams of precum went pouring down the man's throat, making him gag. More than once, it came back up his throat but more just flooded down.

"Fuck yeah..." the Beast growled, bucking his hips. "Betcha like this, huh?" The rhino ran his free hand over his thick pecs, one finger circling the erect, black nipple. "Weak ass, scrawny fucker like you? Bet ya wanna be big and strong like me, eh?" The rhino grinned as he reached down and squeezed Shady's erect cock. It horrified the salesman that - on some subconscious level - he was enjoying this! "Yeah... You like that... Just take in all of my milk. You'll get nice and strong, just like me."

Stunned by the reaction of his body to this intrusion, Shady found himself quickly becoming mesmerised by the movement of those thick muscles as they slowly drove more and more of that cock into his throat. Each abdominal muscle fit perfectly against one another, so strong and hard as metal yet warm and organic. He traced the thick veins that pulsated down the rhino's cock, temporarily vanished into his crotch and then came crawling back up his abs. Those muscles formed a perfect 'v' shape into the broad, upper torso and there was something welcoming about that rough, horned face.

He tried to shake the thoughts from his head but the rhino just squeezed hard on his cock, eliciting a moan from him. Those thick fingers moved away from his crotch and slipped up his shirt. The touch of those rough fingers against his flesh made him shudder. Tree-trunk thighs cradled his head and their muscular frame pressed against his cheeks and ears surrounded him in a sea of muscle that he began to crave.

The rhino's thrusts started rising in tempo and Shady found his wild kicks starting to move more towards his hips instead of legs. His struggle quickly turned into one for need instead of freedom. The taste of the cock in his mouth became less repulsive and more... savoury. His own cock was pressing up against the fabric of his clothing, making him whimper.

The hand restraining his hands left and he found them immediately leaping towards the rhino's thick thighs, running over the grooves of muscle. Rough hide mixed with bulging muscles gave the perfect show of power; impenetrable armour combined with unstoppable strength. That was what a rhino was. His hands glided over every curve of those thighs before sliding behind the Beast onto thick, round glutes that were hard as rock. A whip-like tail slapped at his hands, urging him on.

Loud, guttural noises began emerging from the rhino's throats, echoed by Shady himself. The Beast's thrusts were met by Shady's all too eager dives for the base of that thick cock. The closer he grew, the stronger that leathery, musky scent became and the more he wanted it. Shady felt the massive member pushing up against the back of his throat. To his dismay, he couldn't get any deeper without choking himself... but he wanted it so much!

He wanted that cock.

He wanted that body.

He wanted that ass!

The rhino threw his head back and let out an earth-shattering roar. Shady's whole body went rigid as cum exploded out of the rhino's hose-like member and went pouring straight down his throat into his stomach. He thrusting went back to flailing as the flood of manly fluids cut off is air. The lava-like juices began to strain his stomach and it was all he could do to just keep drinking and drinking the man milk until he could drink no more. He choked and a stream of thick semen came pouring out of his throat, barely slipping through the gabs between the cock and his lips.

Thankfully, the rhino was smart enough to know when his target had his fill and he pulled out. That did not stop the stream, however. Rhinoceros cum splattered all over Shady's face and chest. The Beast was still shooting out a load as he pulled away and dropped to the floor, grinning from ear to ear.

Shady, dazed and covered in semen, looked at the Beast with a mix of desire and confusion. It took a whole minute before the rhino's cock stopped spewing semen like a fire hose and dwindled down to human-sized squirts.

"That was fun," the rhino grunted, jostling his balls. "Got a name there, buddy?"

He swallowed hard. "Shady..."

"They call me, Rammer." The Beast grinned and gave him a sly wink. "Same time tomorrow?"

Shady's reply was instinctively, "No!" but that just made Rammer laugh.

The Beast threw himself out of the window with surprising agility. Shady was instantly on his feet and bolting out of the room. He first hit the kitchen and tried to wash the gunk out of his tongue. When he realised he was covered in the mess, he knew he couldn't just go back up to the others and claim everything was okay.

Thinking fast, he bolted for the gymnasium. Two other rhinos were there but they gave him one look, smirked and turned away. That scared him to all hell. He headed straight for the showers but realised that just would not get the gunk out fast enough. Through the windows, he could already see the sun starting to rise. The other survivors would be making their way down from the top level soon.

With no time to truly give himself a shower, he made a beeline for the pool and threw himself in without so much as a second thought. The chlorine stung his eyes and he could almost feel all the chemicals washing away the horrors of what had occurred just a minute ago.

Even underwater, he heard the deep, gong-like noise that he had heard when the attack first started. He came up for air and swam to the edge of the pool. Despite being weighed down by his clothes, he managed to pull himself out of the pool. A faint jiggling at his stomach made him wince as he spied the paunch that had developed over his otherwise skinny frame.

"I better not be fucking pregnant," he muttered.

Day 2 7:00 AM - Jack

Jack wasn't sure how he knew but the attack had ended. Starved from lack of food and with all the excitement draining his energy, he lumbered over to the stairwell to see if the downstairs was clear of the Beasts. It wasn't but then he saw something very strange.

All the High Horns jolted like they had been shocked and began to rise. Many stretched and began making almost human-gestures as if they were waking from a deep sleep. A few of them grumbled and many of them were loudly complaining that they didn't get a chance to get off. He swallowed hard when he heard one of them say that he would come after that 'twinky Asian tomorrow night'. They slapped each other's shoulders, playfully squeezed one another's asses and some even went so far as giving each other's still-erect cocks a jerk.

These were not ordinary monsters.

They... They were almost human.

One of the High Horns caught him staring, pointed at him and then pointed at his two eyes.

'I'm watching you.'

Jack shrank back as he watched the Beasts just casually leave the Safe House like they were just leaving a particularly crazy party. Each of the other survivors stared at how dismissively they left the grounds and disappeared back into the forest.

When the last one was gone, Monroe was the first to give voice to their surprise.

"What da fuck!?"

No one had any answers and they just went back down to the first floor to inspect the damage to their Safe House. To say that the place had gone to hell was an understatement. The walls remained mostly intact but the doorframes had been shattered and cracks appeared across the white walls. Every window and glass door had been shattered except - strangely - for the small entrance hallway. Furniture had been overturned, potted plants shattered and from all appearances, someone had raided their food stores.

McManus' face appeared on the monitors which remained unharmed.

"Good morning survivors."

Monroe, red-faced and eyes wide, stormed to the front of the group and jabbed a finger at the screen. "You asshole!? What da fuck d'ya think yer pullin' with dis fuck'd up game!?"

As usual, McManus ignored the threats and got straight to the point.

"A new supply drop has been made. Good luck."

A map was shown and then he was gone though the map lingered.

It was not too far. It just seemed to be a little ways deeper into the forest than the outer rim.

"Asshole," Monroe growled. "So who wants ta get da stuff?"

"I'll go."

They were all surprised to find Shady emerging from the gymnasium, dripping wet.

"What happened to you?" Craig asked, instantly suspicious.

"Rhinos can't swim," came the short answer.

Jack still didn't trust him and raised his hand. "I'll get the drop too."

"You shouldn't have to," countered Craig. "You were technically on the first patrol shift. You weren't bad with the Rioter either. Get some rest."

There was no denying that he felt weary from lack of sleep and food but he stuck around long enough for Weiss, Colin and Owen to agree to accompany Shady into the woods to grab the supplies. Once that was decided, he snatched some energy bars from their dried food pantry and sulked off to his bedroom.

His mind was still reeling from the events of the night.

But all that was quickly brushed aside when he stepped into his room.

"What the -?"

A hand quickly wrapped around his lips and he was pulled back into the hallway.

Vincent stood in front of him, pressing a finger against his lips. Jack waited for his heart to stop racing before he nodded. The park ranger took away his hand.

"What?" Jack whispered softly. "Why did you do that?"

Vincent hiked a thumb at his cum-covered room. "Last night, I saw Shady steal some supplies and take them into this room. I saw a High Horn follow him in as well. I didn't see what happened but I guess you can see for yourself."

They both peered into the room which - with the shattered window - was very well ventilated. Still, he could detect the stench of sex in the air and it made him sick. Some loose chips and opened package wrappers lay across the room.

"Why would he want to do that?"

"To your guess is as good as mine," answered Vincent, grimly. "I never trusted that guy but it looks like he got his in the end."

"Why didn't you stop the High Horn from getting him?" counter Jack angrily.

"Would you have?"

Jack wanted to say 'yes' but looking at the room, it seemed that Shady had hoped to frame someone for stealing food. Vincent showed him where the frozen stock had been thrown out the window. It would be easy to implicate Jack for the crime. With that in mind, he had no idea if letting Shady get raped by a titanic anthropomorphic rhinoceros was justified or not.

"I'll have a talk with him when he gets back."

"I have a better idea," Vincent said, nodding towards the two katanas across the floor. "Someone else planted those, Jack. Shady isn't the only one sowing discord."

His lips tightened. He knew those were Terry's but in the confusion, he never saw the kid pick up the swords. Still, he doubted someone like Terry would be capable of such a crime.

"What do you suggest?"

"Let's get this place cleaned up. Then we watch each other's backs. We don't know who set this up but at least we have one less suspect, right?"

Jack peered into room one more time. "And what about Shady?"

"Let's watch him closely. I'm still not sure what happens if you get raped by a Beast. McManus said you get turned into one but Shady still seems human... at least as human as a black-hearted bastard like him can get. Tell no one. I want to see what he does next."

He hated the idea of going behind people's backs but it was clear that if he didn't, he would be the one with a knife in his back... or something worse.

"Okay... Help me with this."