Grue On #4
Horror fiction by Harold C. Holt
Embedded Files
The ability to bring life into the world is beautiful, sacred and God-given...
Most of the time...
ZORA'S CATCH
ZORA'S CATCH
by Harold C. Holt
“Girl, you on that bullshit that's messin' it up for females out here who want something real!”
That's what her ex-BFF had told her, which led to the inevitable falling out that sometimes happens in the complicated relationships between female besties. But Zora Cole certainly didn't see it that way. Having gotten married when she was starry-eyed and 20 only to get divorced from his cheating ass at 23, she learned quickly that hurt and heartbreak were as inescapable as death, taxes and Family Feud reruns. At 36, she was a data entry operator at a busy design consultant firm in the West Loop, and she'd come a long way from praying for fairy tales and armored knights. She realized she had options and certainly was not obligated to sniff out a husband, even if it's what other women her age were doing. They'd made their choices, and she had made hers.
Zora didn't hate men or anything like that; it was quite the opposite, actually. Nothing turned her on like the sculpted body of a man, the chiseled features of his face, the stroke of his commanding fingers across her skin. She, like many women, thought about sex quite a bit. But unlike most women she knew, Zora enjoyed her sexuality, didn't hide from it—was, in fact, liberated by it. So sometimes after work on Fridays, Zora walked over to Stocks & Blondes Tavern on Wells just off Washington in Chicago's West Loop. She knew the bartenders, and they knew to prepare her signature drink (a lemon drop) when she walked in.
Zora's complexion was dark-skinned and baby-smooth. Her hair expressed a loose curly bob. It was casual Friday at work, so she'd worn tan denim pants that hugged her thick and shapely lower half, fashionable black boots that stopped at the ankle, a black felt jacket that, when unbuttoned, revealed a tan sweater. She liked sitting at the island bar, but that particular evening after 5pm, the bar was full, so Zora took a small table just off the left corner. This gave her a view of most of the patrons (who were mostly men) seated at the bar even though she only saw their backs or their sides.
Zora considered herself well-versed in human behavior hacks, particularly human male behavior. Men always noticed a woman sitting alone, and eventually, most of the men at the bar would throw a glance in her direction just to see what she looked like, and that would give her the opportunity to do the same—and then it would start. A look across the room could lead to a night of companionship if there were enough good vibes and magic in the air. Zora pulled out her phone and started flipping past old photos while sipping her drink, and the glances came one after the other.
After fifteen minutes or so, Zora noted that one guy at the bar never turned in her direction not even for a second. Zora thought he might be an older married man at first, but his blue, quilted bomber-style jacket didn't look like something an older married man would be wearing. Once her glass was empty and she was ready to re-up, Zora approached the side of the bar nearest to her and ordered another lemon drop. While she waited for its preparation, she took the opportunity to glance at the man who didn't bother glancing at her. He was fairer skinned with a curly taper fade hairstyle and just a hint of a goatee. Zora watched him tapping on his phone and noticed that he was not a nail biter; he had nice hands, beautiful hands, in fact. When he licked his lips after sipping his drink, Zora stopped breathing. She imagined him licking her lips, licking her breasts and—and other things. What was it about him? He looked so unassuming and yet so confident. He looked like a deep thinker. He looked like a man of infinite patience as well as infinite passion. He looked like... like he was looking right at her.
And he was looking right at her! He caught her staring all googly-eyed like some 8th grader in puppy love hell!
O.M.G! How fucking embarrassing!
Zora rented a one-bedroom condo just off of West Fulton in the market district. It wasn't the first time her bedroom had been her playground, but it was, thus far, a night unlike any other.
Her lover's mouth was a miracle, a bonafide 8th wonder of the world! He'd kissed each of her inner thighs dozens of times, a momentary pause between each kiss during which she felt his moist breath upon her skin before the next kiss would land. Then there was the way he held her hips. His hands were firm, but a couple fingertips, usually the thumb and the index, were always in motion, always caressing.
Zora's favorite way to enjoy sex was to lose herself in the moment and just go with the flow. Sometimes she'd lick her fingers and squeeze her own nipples; sometimes she'd reach between her legs and finger her own kitty. Zora was a sultry moaner and breather. Her new friend was a husky-voiced moaner as well. When his mouth finally reached her vagina, Zora ecstatically shrieked upon feeling the first stroke of his tongue. He quickly fell into a passionate rhythm by flicking his saliva-dripping tongue across her pearl several times before applying his soft lips in a pucker. Then he'd begin sucking while stretching his tongue to part her vaginal lips enough for her fluids to flow into his mouth. And all the while, Zora's mind was in the Garden of Eden, relishing in forbidden fruits and original sins. Her moans grew louder, and her sweaty body quivered.
The Big O was coming, no denying that. She'd already had several smaller ones, but a shuddering climax was in the immediate weather forecast. As her senses swam through heated waves of ecstasy, Zora acknowledged a couple stray thoughts: she'd never achieved her Big O so quickly, and she wondered what woman had taught her paramour his way around a female's body. Zora wanted to meet her and eat her out just to show her appreciation. And that was the thought that did it... Zora's body jerked, and she screamed as a quick stream of her fluids squirted into her lover's face and mouth. Her squirting tended to freak out some men who'd mistaken it for peeing, but Zora's lover simply lowered his head to her stomach and kissed around her navel for a bit.
Zora actually nodded off for maybe a minute, awakened by grunting, the kind of grunting that her parents' dog made when it had to throw up. She braced herself on her elbows and raised her head. Her companion sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his stomach, trying to suppress his involuntary heaving.
Zora actually nodded off for maybe a minute, awakened by grunting, the kind of grunting that her parents' dog made when it had to throw up. She braced herself on her elbows and raised her head. Her companion sat on the edge of the bed rubbing his stomach, trying to suppress his involuntary heaving.
“Baby, you okay?” she asked.
“Baby, you okay?” she asked.
He nodded but wasn't looking any better. “Can I uhh, use your bathroom?”
Zora shook her head. “No. Just pee in your hands, and don't get any on my bed.”
He looked at her with an expression of genuine puzzlement, to which Zora laughed out loud then said, “You know I'm just playing, baby. Go ahead, it's right over there.”
He walked to the bathroom that was connected to the master bedroom and closed the door behind him. She heard him grunting through the door until it turned into what sounded like gagging. He was throwing up. Zora heard the toilet flush followed by running water from the face bowl. Then she heard him gargle and spit. He'd washed his hands then rinsed his mouth out.
“Sounds like someone had a little too much to drink tonight,” Zora playfully announced.
As her visitor exited the bathroom, Zora got up and sat on the side edge of the bed and watched him stride toward her. When he got close, she raised her hands and stopped him before he could sit back down. He had the frame of an athlete in his prime, a very fit basketball player or a middleweight boxer. His penis was just inches from her face, and it was baseball bat hard, uncircumcised. She held it in her right hand and slowly rubbed the foreskin back to fully reveal the head.
She thought about how some of her girlfriends, those she hadn't fallen out with yet, discussed blowjobs as something perfunctory they often did out of obligation, not pleasure. But Zora couldn't wait to hear her companion get off, and knowing that he was getting off because of her would get her off as well. It excited her knowing that no matter how big or tough or masculine a man was, they all turned into a bowl of wiggling Ramen noodles when they received oral sex. Besides, she was still wet from his oral stimulation, so one good tongue deserved another.
She shifted and positioned herself comfortably, then something caught her eye. There was body paint on his pelvis just above his penis, though pubic hair had grown over it. It was an odd look because, usually, those with tattoos shaved themselves so that the art would stand out. But it was as if this man wanted to conceal the tattoo. If Zora hadn't left one of the bedroom lamps on, she wouldn't have noticed it at all. Maybe it was something that he'd gotten when he was young and stupid and was now embarrassed by it.
She shifted and positioned herself comfortably, then something caught her eye. There was body paint on his pelvis just above his penis, though pubic hair had grown over it. It was an odd look because, usually, those with tattoos shaved themselves so that the art would stand out. But it was as if this man wanted to conceal the tattoo. If Zora hadn't left one of the bedroom lamps on, she wouldn't have noticed it at all. Maybe it was something that he'd gotten when he was young and stupid and was now embarrassed by it.
Zora slipped the head of his penis into her mouth while playing her fingers across his pubic hair, attempting to expose or identify the art; and she discovered something puzzling. She saw white ink in the shape of a square or rectangle. There were black lines and... what? She thought they were numbers, but she didn't recognize what the weird little markings were. Truth be told, it sort of resembled a bar code.
She took her mouth off of him and said, “Hey bae—not trying to ruin the moment, but what's the deal here? This tattoo? Was this a Q-Dog thing from college?”
Her companion placed his hands on her shoulders, gently urging her to lay back. He hurriedly tongue-kissed her then said in an almost begging tone, “I want to be inside you.”
Her eyes brightened. “Oooooh, for real? But don't you want me to--”
“Let me put it in, baby. I wanna do it so bad.”
Okay, that was definitely begging, Zora thought, and it was the first turn-off she'd experienced that night, but he was on top of her already, and honestly, she was eager to see how he'd feel inside of her, what kind of stroke he'd have.
The head slipped in quicker than Zora would have preferred, but as his weight shifted upon her and his thrusting got underway, Zora's thighs clenched around him, and she fell into his rhythm for a few moments. He didn't moan so much as he hummed, a weird, wavering hum that would fade into a gasp, then he'd catch his breath and start humming again until that faded, then he'd repeat. His humming was so monotoned, in fact, that Zora couldn't tell if he was actually enjoying the act.
Abruptly, the humming stopped as did her companion's thrusting. Zora opened her eyes and was surprised to find her lover intensely staring right at her.
She whispered, “What's wrong, bae? Did you come? It's okay; I took the shot.”
Without a word, he smothered her with another tongue kiss then began shifting his pelvic region a bit more forcefully.
Zora felt his stiffness moving inside of her but different from before. She experienced an odd, draining sensation that was mild at first but increasingly more pronounced. This was followed by an ache in her temples and a growing weakness in her thighs as their grip around her companion's waist loosened. Then she felt a little dizzy and opened her eyes again. Sure enough, the room was spinning a bit. Her companion's weight was mostly off of her by this point. He was bracing himself upon his knees and elbows with his penis still inside of her, though the head was unnaturally enlarged to maybe golf ball size, and the draining sensation was starting to give her a stomach ache. It was similar to the drainage and weakness and dizziness you felt after having thrown up from being too drunk, a sensation Zora remembered from her college freshman days. But this felt even worse, almost like his penis was... sucking her dry.
“Baby, stop,” Zora said.
Her companion kept maneuvering himself around, and Zora's stomach ached even more.
Angry now, and just a little scared, Zora shouted, “Hey, I said stop! You hear me? STOP IT!"
She summoned enough effort to drive her right fist into the side of her lover's head, catching him squarely against his left ear, which made him raise himself back upon his haunches, revealing a penis that was thicker than it was before with its head the size of a plum, and it was still inside of her. With another boost of strength, she raised her right leg and stamped his chest hard enough to disengage herself from him, knocking him to the floor in the process.
Zora, her vaginal area stinging a bit, scurried back against the headboard and screamed, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The fair-skinned man slowly stood and faced her, crying. This pissed Zora off even more.
“Are you serious right now? What kinda bitch-ass bullshit is this? You've gotta be outta your mind right now!” she snapped.
Before he could say anything, the man grunted a couple times while his body heaved forward. He placed one hand over his mouth and the other over his stomach and ran into the bathroom where he proceeded to cough and gag and throw up some more.
While his shitshow went on in the bathroom, Zora slid off the bed. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she involuntarily dropped to her hands and knees from weakness, and her stomach ached more than ever, but she managed to stand back up and slip into a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt.
After rinsing out his mouth, her visitor exited the bathroom with a pot belly he certainly didn't have going in. “Hey Zora, I'm so sorry, but there's something you need to know,” he said in a sad, timid voice.
She took a look at his pot belly and said, “I don't care what kinda pilates you do to hide that beer belly during sex, and I don't give a shit. You need to get your shit and go.”
“I can't go anywhere, Zora. I need your help, and you need to understand what this is. I'm pregnant.”
“Oh, after the way you just fucked this whole thing up, you got jokes now? Really? Bro, get your shit and get out, or I'm calling the police.” She turned away from him and retrieved her phone.
He approached her from behind and said, “Zora, this is real. I'm pregnant, and you're the mother of our child!”
She spun around and saw that his belly was even larger. In fact, his pectorals were fattening into breasts, and they were starting to droop. Instinctively, she backed away from him and raised her hands to simulate an imaginary barrier that she did not want him crossing. “You need to stop talking crazy because you sound seriously retarded, okay? Men do not get pregnant! So just stop doing whatever the fuck this is and get your psycho ass out of here!”
Zora went to the spot where he'd discarded his clothes. She scooped everything up and tossed them at his feet. His phone dropped to the floor halfway between the two of them.
He pointed to his phone and said, “They keep track of me with that. There's a frequency I'm supposed to activate when it's time so they can come and extract it, but I don't want them to have it. I want you to raise it instead. Can't you understand that?”
“Damn, you are truly mental! Are you taking drugs? I can't believe I made such a mistake picking you! Who is 'they?'”
The man put on his pants and responded: “The aliens who abducted me last year. They branded me and engineered my body for this procedure. All it took was sexual contact with a female for my body to replicate everything it needs to nurture and birth a child. I absorbed your womb and copied your breasts.”
Zora was stunned. “Wait... You—you took my womb? How the fuck--?”
The man shook his head. “I didn't want this to happen. I've been celibate, avoiding female companionship ever since they brought me back. But you were so spirited, so strong; you weren't afraid to live in the moment. You opened me up and broke down my barriers. And I thought, they don't need to ever know this child is here. Zora can raise it.”
Zora was confused and horrified. She looked at her lover's body and saw that not only had his belly grown larger, but his breasts were now as big as hers. Then he wailed in an octave higher than Zora thought any man capable of producing. He shuddered and his pants dampened and dripped. He let out a deep sigh, looked at her and muttered, “My water just broke.”
Zora suddenly felt violated in ways she couldn't even articulate, and her horror gave way to an explosion of rage. She rushed him, pelting him with blow after frustrated blow. He turned his back on her while folding his arms to shield his belly the best he could, all the while yelling in the most distressed voice she'd ever heard from a man, “Stop, Zora! Stop it! You'll hurt the baby!”
Zora suddenly felt violated in ways she couldn't even articulate, and her horror gave way to an explosion of rage. She rushed him, pelting him with blow after frustrated blow. He turned his back on her while folding his arms to shield his belly the best he could, all the while yelling in the most distressed voice she'd ever heard from a man, “Stop, Zora! Stop it! You'll hurt the baby!”
“Get out! Get the fuck out!” she countered, urging him toward the door.
“Don't do us this way, Zora! Please don't put us out!” he pleaded.
“Stop talking to me! You're no man! You're not even human! Get out!”
He opened the door more to avoid her physical blows, but he clearly did not want to leave as he spun around and jammed one of his bare feet in the doorway before Zora could close it. He braced himself against the door to hold it steady and keep it parted while Zora charged her full weight against it from her side, striking his foot with the door over and over. He suddenly screamed, and Zora saw that not only was his whole foot swelling into a purple bruise, but his big toe was broken as it now appeared awkwardly bent, pointing away from the rest of his toes.
Through grit teeth, he snarled, “Zora, you need to stop this now!”
He pounded the door with both fists hard enough to fling Zora off her feet and to the floor. She looked up at him and began scooting back, remembering that no matter what abnormal freakiness she'd seen on display that night, he was still a man, still physically stronger than her despite his condition. But then his pants slipped down around his ankles as more water let loose. For the briefest of moments, it looked like his penis was peeling itself back, splitting open. He dropped to the floor and started screaming.
Zora scrambled to her feet, gathered his remaining clothes and tossed them outside the door, then closed and locked it. She quickly slipped on some gym shoes and dialed 9-1-1 on her phone. The man in the hallway cried out like he was on fire. Zora heard the voice on the phone say “9-1-1: what's your emergency?”
“Uhh, yes, there's a man trying to get into my apartment, and I don't want him in here!”
“Is this an attempted break-in, ma'am?”
“Ummm, no, he was in here before. I mean, he was here and I put him out. I don't want him coming back in.”
“Did he threaten you? Harm you?”
“Well, not exactly. He just got all weird, and I put him out. I don't want him back in here.”
“Is this your husband, your boyfriend? A domestic partner? A reletive?”
“He's uhhhh, none of the above. He's ummm.,, He's screaming! Can't you hear him through the phone?”
“Sounds like he's crying, Miss. Is he a friend of yours? Or a total stranger?”
“It's uhh, it's hard to explain.”
“Miss, are you in danger? Do you need me to send someone?”
It suddenly got quiet enough to hear traffic outside. No more screaming. Zora wondered what it meant.
“Hello? Are you still there? Do you need me to send someone?”
Zora heard some coughing immediately followed by crying, a baby crying! There was a baby outside her door.
“Miss? Is everything okay?”
Zora hung up and quickly slipped on her jacket and grabbed her purse. It was time to extricate herself from the situation. The child's crying sent waves of dread rippling through her. She was only on the second floor; she could exit thru the window and climb down the fire escape. She did not care to walk out the door and see what state her visitor was in. And what of the baby? Its continuous cries pierced her soul like drill bits.
Yes, men were physically stronger than women, but could they survive childbirth? The man she'd brought home had said they were coming to extract the baby. Maybe he took her womb as he'd said, and maybe they'd tinkered with him as he'd said, and possibly that enabled him to bring a child to term in nine minutes instead of nine months. But could his body endure being torn apart?
That's why he'd been celibate, Zora suddenly realized. Breaking his celibacy would lead to a biological event he'd never survive, and yet he'd broken it for her. Maybe that's why they were going to extract the child. Well either way, Zora didn't see it as her problem. She'd only barely begun to process any of the madness, and her condo was the last place she wanted to be at that moment. Maybe it was time for a trip out south to see her parents and their vomiting dog.
The man's phone, forgotten in the chaos, started to ring—but it was a ringtone unlike anything Zora had ever heard, like a cross between a techo music effect and a cave bat shrieking, something truly out of the Twilight Zone, something not of this world.
Not of this world!
He said he would alert them when it was time, and they would come. But what if they already knew? What if they were monitoring him the whole time? And what if that phone led them right to him?
Zora grabbed the phone and fiddled with it until she figured out how to remove the battery and the sim card. She flushed each down the toilet then took the phone itself and threw it out the window into the busy street below. Zora was going to climb out as well, but she noticed that the crying outside her door had simmered to a series of repetitive whimpers and whines. Then there was scratching at her door, like an abandoned animal trying to get back in. Zora glanced at the door and saw tiny brown fingers reaching under it, fingers that were a little bigger than a newborn infant's. The fingers gripped and flailed and scratched. Enough weight was pushed against the door to convey intention: the child wanted to get in, the naked, confused child who was alone with its father who had fallen silent and was, if not dead, in a comatose world of body trauma. Was there an umbilical cord binding the child to its sire of unlife until someone came along and severed that binding?
Zora clenched her eyes shut and said out loud, “No, no, no, no, no, stop it! It's not. My. Fucking. Problem!”
Zora faced the window again and raised it higher, but before she could climb through, a toddler's voice called out from the other side of the door:
“Ma-Ma? MAMA!”
Zora shook her head then submerged herself in a pool of tears. When all was said and done, she lowered the window, discarded her purse and walked toward the front door.
Copyright (c) by Harold C. Holt, 2025
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse