Lecherous Telepath

Tree roots dug into the marshy ground like predatory claws. The leafless branches gleamed metallically, their tangled shapes reminiscent of a tangle of vipers, their dangling tails splashing in the murky water. Sunlight penetrated the branches' hood, as if defying some malevolent force, pushing in streaks of light, illuminating the land with shades of ultramarine and violet, which intensified in the recesses and sank into the depths of shadow. The marshes, shrouded in strands of radiation fog, teemed with underwater life. A growing moan, filled with the suffering of some creature, erupted into a prolonged scream, then faded suddenly. The piercing sound attracted enormous flying creatures, which gathered in swarms, following the fresh scent of blood. The mysterious world came alive with the hum of insect wings.

Ston Are, runner number four, lifted the visor of his helmet and smelled the mustiness of rotting plants in the mud. He looked around in disbelief. An icy chill shook him, surprise spread across his face, and fear filled his wide eyes. His imagination, violated by what he was seeing, began to conjure images of bloodthirsty beasts, whose predatory faces emerged from the shadows of the trees, their squinting red eyes snapping with hungry jaws, saliva dripping from between them; plum, plum – the ringing in his ears grew louder and louder.

Are tried to contain his terror and, to divert his thoughts, began adjusting his protective gear. He checked the control device on his belt. The circular buckle had six buttons arranged around its diameter. The first, marked "POW," opened the air tank strapped to his back. The next button, "OPT," allowed him to depressurize the four-piece suit. The third switch, "REF," lit two rectangular lamps mounted on the shoulders like soldier's shoulder straps. Another button, "NOK," activated night vision goggles shaped like wide glasses, which lowered to eye level when activated. The fifth button, "TER," doubled as a knob and maintained the set temperature regardless of the surroundings. The final button, "ZAM," served to fuse and seal the suit into a seamless whole.

Ston became interested in the strange creature flying around him. From his holster, he pulled a universal laser pistol. In addition to single and burst fire, it had two additional modes: it could be set to "lightsaber" mode and used as a grenade. The winged insect flew even closer. It resembled a mosquito several times its size. Runner number four aimed and fired. The beam of light shot out. It melted the creature's wings, and its limp body fell into the swamp. The large insect tried to swim to shore, but a whirlpool formed on the surface, and something sucked its prey in with a dull smack. The underwater glutton, who had been given an unexpected feast, exhaled bubbles of air tinged with blood.

Satisfied with his accurate shot, Are holstered his pistol. The sheath was placed on his left thigh, indicating that the computer program had recognized his left-handedness. On his right side was a double-edged knife; he drew it. He sliced ​​the air several times with it, dodging and stabbing at the invisible enemy.

"A bit too short," he explained the size, adding with a contemptuous expression. "But it's perfect for cutting branches. It'll serve me as a machete."

The timer flashed green, displaying the message "START IN 10 SECONDS." The red compass hand came to life, pointing in the prescribed direction. He remembered the simple rules of the test—they consisted of four points.

"First, I have to run five kilometers," he recited aloud. "Second, for every meter covered, one point. Third, one hundred points for killing an attacking creature. Fourth, at the finish line, points will be deducted for wounds and damaged equipment, according to a specified price list," he recited, waving his fingers like a small child.

Unexpectedly, a fragment of the telepath's briefing filtered into his consciousness.

"I apologize in advance for my erotic tendencies, which subconsciously influence the psychophysical test scenario. This is caused by using my abilities for films, erotic to say the least. If you have any hidden psychological deviations, they will also manifest in the transformation of your virtual counterparts. Therefore, I must warn you. You might scare yourselves." After these words, he laughed mockingly, causing general disgust among the attentive listeners.

The runner, full of foreboding, wanted to see his reflection as quickly as possible. He hurried to the water's surface. He leaned forward and saw a stocky silhouette. He opened his visor wider, but that wasn't enough—he pulled off his helmet and released his dark hair. The murky water reflected his eyes, hidden beneath his bushy eyebrows.

"Phew..." he took a deep breath and smiled at his reflection. He made a menacing face, baring his teeth. "It's nice," he whispered with relief. "When a person learns to accept their appearance. This slight change in muscle size doesn't matter. I like myself," he said proudly, flexing his muscles until they stood out clearly in the tight-fitting suit.

Are was pleased with his body, pulsating with energy. As a young man, he had served his mandatory military service in the special forces. It was difficult, but he had toughened his body and undergone thorough psychophysical training. He hoped this would bear fruit and help him pass the race successfully.

Suddenly, the surface of the water rippled. Ston heard a loud splash, breaking his reverie and disturbing the reflected figure. It was too late for a calculated reaction; he reached for his laser pistol, but he didn't even have time to draw it. A creature resembling a giant eel leaped out of the water. It opened its toothed jaws, wide as a bear trap, and lunged toward the surprised man's face. The hand armed with a knife reacted instinctively, covering its face. The blade passed through the gaping maw and pierced the animal's brain. Dark blood spurted in a thick stream over the runner's glove and spattered across his face. The slimy creature had managed to wrap itself around the neck of its would-be victim, pinning him to the ground.

The attacked man uncoiled its long tail from around his neck. With shaking hands, he put on a helmet, which he had carelessly removed while examining his reflection, and closed the visor. He pressed the "POW" button on his belt buckle and took a moment to breathe deeply, calming his breathing. He felt hot, so he adjusted the thermostat to a lower setting. He decided to keep his laser pistol ready to fire. He took the knife in his right hand. After these actions, his nervousness subsided.

Are slowly began running. He set a suitable pace and evened his breathing. He steered clear of any suspicious swamps. His helmet effectively amplified the sound signals. The runner reacted to every suspicious sound, frequently glancing to the sides and behind him. The thicket of trees prevented him from maintaining the prescribed direction, so he weaved around, seeking less overgrown areas, clearing his path with slashes of the knife. He slowed his pace to rest a bit. He wiped the muddy clock. He read the current reading, the cyclically increasing value.

"I'm doing quite well, I've got—" And he didn't finish; the pain in his back robbed him of his breath. The impact threw him to the ground. He consciously rolled onto his back to see his opponent. At that moment, a barbed tail hovered over his head and suddenly began to fall at high speed. The runner nimbly rolled to the side. The impact ripped through the swamp. Mud sprayed everywhere. Ston quickly got to his feet, but he was too close to the lizard and didn't have time to counterattack. The reptile instantly curled its tail and struck again. The helmet cushioned the impact, but the attacked man still felt a sharp stagger. He began to stumble backward on unsteady legs. Meanwhile, the monster, confident of victory, narrowed its yellow eyes and crouched, ready to pounce.

Are was unable to aim accurately. He fired at the creature's head and slipped in the mud, falling onto his back. The creature, hit in the side of its body, roared in pain and leaped at its fallen victim. Under the weight of its enormous body, the ground split open. The black sludge engulfed them completely. The lizard's body was pressing down on it, dragging it into the depths.

Helpless runner number four and his torturer were sinking into the thick liquid that was slowly dragging them into a dark abyss. The air tank allowed for breathing, but it only prolonged the helpless victim's obvious agony. The growing buzzing in his ears and the pain in his ribs slowly and ruthlessly robbed him of consciousness.

***

Ston Are woke up in his bed, covered in sweat. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, creating a luminous zebra pattern on the opposite wall. It promised to be a sunny, cloudless day.

"Until the smog of the waking city's exhalations devours the sun..." He drew out the last word, yawning as if trying to swallow something, and rubbed his eyes for a long time. "How little does a person need for happiness? Sometimes it's enough to wake up from a nightmare," he said with a sense of relief, his face glowing with bliss. "Just a bad dream!" He muttered loudly, hoping to wake the girl sleeping next to him.

She was just turning to the man beside him. He placed his hand under her head. She snuggled into his arms. For a moment, he listened to her calm breathing.

"Well, time to get to work... The world is waiting for a new genius," he said, leaning over her and pressing against her warm hips, still steaming with dreams.

He liked to watch her sleep. She wasn't beautiful, but he was tired of the sugary, forced-on-the-nose dolls who, fearing old age, cut wrinkles from their faces with a scalpel. Plastic surgery, in the age of youth worship, had become as common as visits to the dentist. Only mentally strong women accepted their character flaws. He respected her for not succumbing to yet another fad.

"But how long would she last?" he asked himself with growing concern, a slimy doubt creeping into his mind like a poisonous snake.

The "Healthy Child" Council performed admirably. They matched him, naturally using appropriate genetic tests and lengthy forms, with the woman he'd recently met. Together, they agreed that conception would occur naturally, which was, of course, more certain and more pleasant. However, if, after some time, it turned out they weren't compatible, they simply agreed to remain friends for the sake of the intended offspring. It was a fair arrangement. At first, he was opposed to the Council's crude interventions and their games of Creator, but recently, he had become gripped by a fear of children with telepathic abilities. Scientists attributed the increasingly frequent births of mutants with psychic abilities to environmental pollution.

The computer turned on automatically. The announcer, in a melodic voice, read the latest news from around the world. The monitor on the wall bombarded with images of local ethnic and religious riots. Emerging conflicts escalated into protracted wars, stretching into a hopeless future where fanatical groups were taking root internationally. The armed plague of our times was growing to exorbitant proportions at an alarming rate. Terrorism, fed by false ideals, flourished on hatred, and its bloody, bitter fruits poisoned with fear, rotted with revenge, and left in its wake the sticky stench of death and helplessness for innocent people.

The announcer's voice snapped Stone out of his reverie.

"And now for the good news and an announcement. The International Aeronautical Institute "Kosmoglob" is offering, for a fee, a selection test for candidates from whom the space shuttle crew will be selected." The predatory policies of large industrial corporations are leading to the depletion of natural resources and, consequently, environmental pollution. We are currently experiencing increasing weather anomalies and climate change on our planet. We must reckon with the possibility that our lives will become increasingly difficult and difficult.

The announcer's impassive face transformed into snapshots showing natural disasters caused by global warming.

Ston became interested in a glacier mass losing its shape and contours. Mountains of ice were peeling off the slopes and crashing into the deep blue ocean. Then the monitor showed an image of a city built in a depression on the shore of a sea that was just giving birth to a massive wave. The rising column of water opened its toothless maw, slowly swallowing the skyscrapers as if they were sandcastles built by carefree children, not reinforced concrete structures resistant to earthquakes. Water seeped into the apartment blocks, flooding the busy streets where people drove in lines of cars to go about their daily business. Like an eraser, the sea erased all signs of civilization, leaving behind a clear surface and the silent screeches of surprised people who likely hadn't even had time to be surprised, confident in a bright future, sealed with long digits in bank accounts that no longer existed.

"This experimental project of waiting in Earth orbit arose from the theories of scientists who claim that our civilization will self-destruct and the handful of survivors will fall into the abyss of the Stone Age. That's why we're creating a group of volunteers who, in hibernation, will survive until our planet regenerates, and then accelerate the development of a new civilization. Therefore, to increase the mission's success, we want to select the best. We need genetically healthy people, physically and mentally fit. Military training is welcome. We invite you to a physical examination and a psychophysical test in the computer studio, where we will assess your predispositions. Today we are organizing the recruitment of candidates for the reconnaissance officer specialization..."

Ston told the computer to turn down the news and play some soft music, deciding to wake his partner. So, to start the day with a good deed. He gently turned her over. The blanket fell back, revealing her pert breasts. Awakened, she looked at him with sleepy eyes. Suddenly, her face began to change. Her complexion darkened, her hair began to wave, her lips swelled, and her eyes filled with animalistic lust. The physical transformation of the woman's body caused complete confusion in the horny lover's mind, escalating into embarrassment. A scream echoed from somewhere in the fragments of his consciousness.

"I'm dreaming! This is a dream! Then what is reality?" he asked, remembering everything. The next sensation was a growing terror. "I want to go back to sleep! To dream something beautiful!" he screamed in his sleep, thrashing between the hypnovirtuator cables in the circular, luminous chamber.

Only he, Sam Hade, the greatest telepathic genius of recent times, saw this, but he wasn't particularly concerned. He looked impassively at the fourth monitor, on which images of a virtual world flickered. He touched the F4 and F5 buttons on the keyboard simultaneously. He closed his eyes. The helmet-shaped device above his head flickered with electrical discharges. The psychic mutant smiled lasciviously, licked his lips lusciously, and whispered,

"Now, let the fun begin. We need to throw these two into the frying pan of the senses. This pair should be slightly roasted, bloody with pain and terror. Only then will they try, and I will savor the taste of what I've cooked up."

Are was afraid of further testing. He was aware of the unreality of the virtual world, but he feared what the sadistic director had prepared for him. He tried to wake up from the nightmare and rip the hypnovirtuator's cables from himself, straining his will and all his inner strength, until finally, helpless, he succumbed to the telepath's indomitable will.

The black, naked figure that had only moments before been a candidate for impregnation sprawled across him like a cowboy at a rodeo. Two white fangs marred his beautiful Negro face. A forked tongue explored his surroundings and finally found an artery. The vampire sucked at his neck, thirsty for blood. Ston was frightened and tried to shake off his hungry attacker, but the woman's thighs squeezed tightly, and his hips impatiently sought something. As they neared their desired target, he felt their circular, undulating movements. All the while, he had the overwhelming feeling that someone was watching this intimate dream, as if standing nearby, eavesdropping.

"Oh, what the hell. It's just an erotic nightmare, after all. A little virtual sex never hurt anyone," unconscious thoughts raced through his mind, fueled by his growing arousal. Finally, he gave in.

The bodies of the lovers from his nightmare were tangled in a tight embrace, twisting and rolling, like in a wrestling match, when the strength of the competitors is equal. It hurt, the nightmare sucked hard, he tore her away from his neck, but she nimbly moved lower, and there she already had something to hold on to.

"Oh! Oh my... She's so tight," he screamed in his sleep. Oh fuck!!! So strong... Oh!!! You're exaggerating a bit! You devil, so insatiable! Gently!...

The pleasure grew rapidly, and the vampire changed position again. She moved to the pubic mound she'd chosen from above and treated his hips like the saddle of a stallion that must be tamed at all costs. Are felt already sufficiently ridden and worn out as a horse.