The Bergman Affair

 

So, this whole arc is an experiment within the larger experiment that is the Bergman Affair, and I'm kinda nervous about it. I really do wanna know what you think, so please comment. All comments will be replied to at this url: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/page-4 which you can copy/paste into your address bar. My turn around time for comments is usually forty-eight hours. Thanks, hope you enjoy this...

Planet YS7-23, GFDate 4034:0514

Screams echoed through the small room.

The first few were the worst. It only took a few heartbeats for the clone to get to the control panel and filter the sound, making it more bearable, though no more palatable. Madeline stood and watched the monitors, transfixed by the sight and sounds that were being shown her.

Samus had crawled along the sand, looking for some form of cover. Ridley had found her anyway. The dragon had said something about smelling her from the other side of the galaxy – a statement that was disturbing on more levels than Madeline cared to think about.

Just as bad had been the ease with which the dragon had cut through stone to claim the captive Hunter. His fingers had sliced through the stone as if it were nothing at all, but the gentleness with which he'd taken Samus in hand had been a fresh level of hell, so at odds with everything that Madeline knew him to be. He held her up, long talons circling her body and holding her in place.

“Try not to. move,” the dragon crooned. “I wouldn't want you to. hurt yourself.”

She didn't struggle, that was the surprising thing. Madeline wasn't sure how she managed to hold herself in place, but she did not struggle as those hate-filled yellow eyes bored into hers, as the sun bore down on them both – the beauty of Samus and the horror of Ridley a sharp contrast.

The dragon's wrist twisted and he spun her about, studying her, smiling. His tail slashed at the ground behind him, carving obscene sigils into the ground, staining the grains of sand with crackling veins of red and purple. His snout traced her calf, her thigh, moving across her belly and breasts, and Madeline watched as her whole body tensed.

“How much longer would. you have been. a bother?” He nuzzled her shoulder, her neck. “Ten or twenty. of your years? How sad. How wasted. I am immortal and you. are nothing.”

His tongue oozed out from between razor sharp teeth, circling her, pressing into the golden slime that covered her skin. Fascinated, Madeline watched as the long muscle slithered over Samus, the slime solidfying, blackening, and flaking off her with every passing.

Samus moaned and her head twitched. The slime crumbled, her armor crumbled, exposing flesh and leaving her naked in her enemy's palm. Still the tongue continued, probing her, pressing into her, leaving a trail of purpling bruises behind.

“Mom?”

The voice came from somewhere distant. The word repeated. Someone was pulling on her sleeve, drawing her attention away from the scene playing out before her. Madeline shook her head, turned to look into the scared eyes of the child that was kneeling at her feet, looking to her for comfort.

“It's okay, mother. It's okay.” The clone bowed her head, pressing her cheek against Madeline's knee. “I made a call. Someone is coming. We're going to be okay.”

An ill-filtered moan circled around them, drawing two sets of eyes back to the scene outside. Samus' lips were parted but her neck was straight, her hatred and attention focused on the atrocity that held her hostage with one hand, his tongue slipping back into his mouth. The dragon's lips parted in an awful grin, razored teeth devouring light.

The hate in Samus' eyes should have melted steel, but Ridley held it, his expression fixed as his tail quickened.

“You taste just like. she did. before I ate her. ”

 

Planet Daibon, GFDate 4034:0514

The explosions were getting louder, Vogl thought. He hoped it was only his imagination, though the way the other senators were looking around he knew it was not. Sylux was coming here, would kill them all – and if Vogl was the only survivor it would ruin him.

Shaking, holding himself, he wondered if Sylux would even look at their faces before opening fire. Keaton had told them all what had happened, how the rogue Hunter had been hunting him through the fires and devastation that had come to Daibon.

“Who or what is a Sylux?” one of the senators asked. The others scowled at the figure, a lesser alien from an isolationist world that was only a grudging member of the Federation as a whole.

“Sylux is a bounty hunter,” a soldier answered. “We assume its male, but no one knows for certain. The armor and weapons it uses were based on what we know of Chozo and Zebesian technology, with a couple additions thrown in from the various tech species.”

“We built it?” the ignorant senator squeaked.

“A prototype,” the soldier grunted, nodding. “Stolen. The lab, the notes, the volunteers that were being trained to sync with the armor, everyone involved died, except two.”

“Who were the two?”

“Colonel Sakamoto, who approved the project,” the soldier answered. “And me. Before anyone asks, I was absent with leave. Family emergency. Got me busted from a military sergeant to this swell security gig.”

Another charge went off in the distance, painting faraway skies in rushing waves of fire and smoke. Everyone turned to look at it, ignoring the rumbling beneath their feet.

“I suspect that most of what our troops are chasing are pre-planted explosives,” Keaton said, looking bored as he glanced in the direction of the far off fires. “The location of them implies that this attack has been planned for several months.”

“There hasn't been a Vhozon delegation here in that time!” one of the other senators cried, looking around while wringing his hands together. Keaton looked at the creature, though Vogl could have sworn the Sazin was looking over the little alien and directly at him.

“Perhaps,” the Chairman said, smiling a sick little smile, “the culprit is not among the Vhozon.”

Lightning crashed through one of the walls immediately after the Sazin was done speaking, sending the other senators scattering. Vogl went with them, turning back to watch as Keaton struck one of the soldiers and took his weapon, firing at the piping above the new hole that their murderer was now walking through.

Smoke cascaded down and around them all, a thick fog that reduced the world to hazy silhouettes. Sylux moved forward, his image distinct even in these conditions, the fell emerald glow of his energy casting strange shadows all throughout the room.

“Firing your cannon might kill us all,” Keaton said, his calm voice trickling through the room. “The chemicals I've released will explode when exposed to an electrical charge. Might kill you. Might not. Just thought you'd want to know.”

It took Sylux only a moment to dispatch the soldiers, moving among them with a predator's grace and striking them to the ground with a series of swift blows. Keaton fired his stolen weapon into the Hunter's abdomen to no real effect, hissing as a blow swung around for his head.

-Miss- Keaton said, his second mouth opening as he fired his weapon again. Sylux grabbed the weapon away, his fingers closing around the gun and reducing it to splinters.

The Hunter turned back to the Chairman, but Keaton had vanished into the mist.

“I am going to find you,” the Hunter spoke, its electronic voice lacking all inflection. “There is nowhere you can run from me, and your voice will rupture from frequent use. Sooner - rather than later - I will kill you.”

A long moment stretched, Sylux hunting through the mist.

“He's right.” Vogl tried not to scream at the words whispered beside him. He turned to find Keaton crouching at his side. The Chairman sighed, looking at Vogl with a tight-lipped smile. “I suppose we should end this charade.”

The Chairman stood, identifying himself, and the Hunter walked over to where senator and Chairman were, no longer so hidden. Sylux stared down at them for a moment before attacking, but each effort was met with a spoken command to -miss.-

Vogl could see the strain this was having on the Chairman, the way his limbs trembled, the way that hypnotic voice began to rasp each time the fuzzy blue creature opened his mouth. The words sounded weak and wet but still they came, seconds trickling into minutes.

Keaton fell to one knee.

Sylux went to strike him, then paused. A long moment went by, the Hunter's attention drawn to something none of them could see. Keaton knelt, his head bowed, as Sylux turned and vanished into the destruction he had wrought.

A whole minute had gone by. Keaton, Vogl thought, could still die. No one would see it. He had a blade on him, a simple cut... the Chairman looked exhausted, insensate...

But then the smoke began to clear. More soldiers poured into the room, the senators running to them for aid and protection. Vogl looked around, caught the Chairman staring at him with narrowed eyes until the computer on his bracer flashed orange.

Keaton looked at it, the lips of both mouths pressing into a tight line. Without a second look at Vogl, the Chairman grabbed a soldier, using her as a crutch as he stalked back towards his offices.

 

Planet YS7-23, GFDate ????:????

“While I loathe your species. as much as. all the others,” Ridley crooned, his tongue mauling her right breast, the vibration making each of his words feel like a vicious slap against her chest. “There are things about you. humans that I do. admire.”

His tongue snaked around her, tracing her hip, pressing against the sensitive flesh between her legs, bruising the most vulnerable part of her. She gasped, trapped between revulsion and lust.

“I see the. game that is being played here.” The dragon's talons pressed a little closer against her neck and Samus shivered, shaking, her eyes wide as she stared at her enemy. “I choose to play this game. with you. Samus Aran. a stripling who tastes so much like. her mother.”

His tongue slithered back and off her, vanishing into his mouth, pulling along the last flakes of the slime that had bound her and leaving her naked and trembling in his grasp. His face moved closer to hers, his eyes almost as large as her head.

And then he let her go.

She spun on the way down, Chozo training kicking in. She landed on her feet and there was a moment where she nearly charged at him, nearly attacked – but then she remembered her current circumstances. Spitting curses, she spun on her heel and ran in the other direction, knowing escape was hopeless but not willing to just lie down and die.

“Sit.”

The word left his mouth. -sit.- It settled in her mind and she slowed down, shaking her head, suddenly confused. The dragon sang the word again, a single syllable echoing into the world around her, and she found herself on her knees, eyes watering and skin trembling, the sky recoiling in horror as the dragon flew in lazy circles around her, his mouth open in a feral grin.

“Leth me g-go,” hissed Samus from her knees. Her throat hurt from disuse, the words dripping slowly from her tongue. She struggled to move and found she couldn't, settled for glaring at the ground as the shadow of her nemesis flew past. His rolling laughter echoed in soft rolling waves around her, making each grain of sand beneath her tremble.

“I do not think that. I will.” He landed in front of her, his wings circling her and blocking out all light. “How much time. do you have left? How much longer can you maintain. our sacred little dance? A decade. or a dozen years?”

“Ath long as it t-taketh t-to k-kill you,” Samus whispered. The dragon laughed.

“I will finally die. when I choose to,” the dragon crooned, lowering his face his tongue caressing her cheek. “You can kill me as often. as you like and it will no take.”

“Not even Death wanth you.”

“There is truth. in that.”

She managed to raise her head, meeting the dragon's gaze.

“Let you and I. strike a bargain.” Ridley extended his wings, blocking out the sky as he loomed over her, towering over her like a god. “We will play together. a decade of games for. just the two of us.”

“What... what thort of g-games?” asked Samus, looking her lips, her eyes searching for any means of escape. The dragon chuckled, the air around her becoming a sickening miasma from the sound.

“You know of the Chozo, but. do you know the. history of your human kin? Do you know of. the ling che?”

“The death of a thousand cuts.”

“I like to think of that number as. a starting point.” The Dragon smiled, moving into her line of vision, reminding her that there was no escape. “Stay with me. play. and I will stay as long as you survive.”

Samus closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“Get on with it.”

“Stand,” Ridley crooned, and without thought Samus found herself falling onto her palms, assuming the position that Brannigan had driven into her. “Hold that position for me. Hunter.”

She closed her eyes, biting her lip as the first cut came. She gasped, then whimpered, her eyes opening as she watched a thin red line appear on the back of her hand. Gentle, gentle, three dozen paper-cuts tracing the lines of her fingers and hands, just deep enough to bring blood to the surface without having it boil over.

“Do you know how the. victims of this torture die?” The Dragon shuddered as he asked the question, his hot breath pushing the hair from the nape of her neck. “It is not. blood loss that will kill you.”

“It's the pain,” whispered Samus, feeling flowers of agony blossom from one hand, then the other as the dragon turned his attention to where it hadn't been. “The body finally gives out.”

“That is entirely. correct.” A soft smile, the massive head nodding, a single gentle talon tracing the curve of her forearm. “I'll clean your wounds. bring you food. keep you strong that you might endure these agonies my. dearest. beloved. Hunter.”

The dragon kept his promise. Samus knew that in her lucid moments. Sometimes she would try to speak, but even though she was no longer gagged the words wouldn't come, her voice a rasping ruin from the screams. She wept and begged and pleaded as he cut her, then soothed her and brought her food, nursed her stroked her hair when one day passed into another, but when he thought she was beginning to recover he would say one of four words and she would lock into place, helpless as his talons traced lines into her flesh.

Never deep enough to injure or cause actual bleeding, thin red trails that looked almost decorative. He was making her a work of art. Sometimes, he would carry her to a pool and let her see what he had done, making her watch as he made her a thing of horrid beauty.

Because there was an art to what he was doing to her. Even now, she could see it, the way he somehow brought out her natural beauty, leaving her face untouched to better express the anguish of what she suffered. She held herself, shaking and crying until one of hour words was spoken and the agony returned.

-Sit-

left her breasts exposed, her whole midriff, her thighs and her cunt. His talons moved everywhere, bare little traces that left searing agony in their wake. He took delight in caressing the soft undersides of her breasts, small spirals and figure eights.

On her midriff her moved down from breastbone to hip before brushing past abdoman and into the sensitive skin stretched between her hips, inscribing a language composed of a thousand new agonies. He moved on, circling from outer thigh to inner, teasing her, toying with her...

Samus hated this position, hated the way he felt her with one hand while the knuckles of his other slipped under her, massaging that one traitorous part of her, adding a note of pleasure to the purity of her pain...

-Stand-

was the position that he liked to trace along her spine, moving up in long delicate strokes that elicited terrible cries from her. She wept when he turned his attention to the soles of her feet, the backs of her calves and then thighs, lightly patting her rump...

During those times that he held her he sometimes let her try to walk, mocking her as she fell. Her legs couldn't support her weight, the graceful agility that was her pride torn away by the abuse he inflicted upon her. She huddled in those moments, knowing she couldn's escape this worst of all nightmares, but no matter how she begged or how she pleaded the pain continued.

Her forearms and biceps, her shoulders. This was the position he had her take when he wanted to turn his attention those parts of her. One hand tracing lines of exquisite torment, the others still invading her pain with pleasure. She wept and tried to focus her mind on that, swimming through agony to cling to the comfort of rape.

The knowledge of what he was doing to her made everything so much worse.

-Beg-

he crooned, and her breasts were once more made his plaything. But now, with her hands up and held loose and open, he could trace the lines of her palms. He did that, taking delight in her soft moans, her hands becoming so sensitive that even curling her fingers was torture.

Her elbows and knees were carved with patterns and signs, sigils that hurt her to look upon even when her eyes weren't blurry and the screams weren't escaping her mouth. The pain nearly made her pass out, but the way he cut her made it hurt to move and every time she wavered agony caught her and kept her in place.

And still his other hand massaged the place between her thighs, the glistening jewel at her apex. She hated the way the pleasure made this less and more horrible all at once, hated the whimpering moans that stumbled off her tongue between screams.

Lower, lower, and lower she descended, all thought leaving her, one day passing into another. She did not know how long she was suffering this, did not know how long she must endure. All she knew was that she was locked into this mad agonised descent, this atrocity, and though she was lost and falling there was still so much farther to fall.

Ridley promised her that. Even when he cared for her, between one session and the next, he promised her that he would attend to her every conscious moment. This was worse than Brannigan, worse than anything, his breath keeping her warm at night and his tongue washing her clean.

“I wonder if you'll be so much. after we're done here,” Ridley crooned, holding her one evening as she shuddered and wept. “Will you be anything more than art. once I've broken you comperely?”

Samus shuddered, shook, cried and wept. The tortures began anew. How far she had fallen, the Hunter, Champion of the Chozo, legend, warrior, savior. She had fallen so far and there was still so much further to fall, so many agonies Ridley had promised, all meant to drive her further and further

-Down-